


Through the Eluvian and What Alix Found There

by Eravalefantasy



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alice in Wonderland mashup, Alistair as Mad Hatter, Alistair left in the Fade, Asylum, Blackwall as the March Hare, Cole as the Cheshire Cat, F/M, Fade Dreams, Solas as the Caterpillar, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-11-12 11:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18009791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: It all begins with a note:Inquisitor,If my words have found you, you must find a way. You slumber, unable to wake, but the elf insists only you can break free of the Fade. Alecia, I believe in you. Solve the riddles and return. The elf and the Grand Enchanter cannot reach you until you restore that which was broken.We need you or Thedas suffers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a prompt shared. Melding Alice in Wonderland and Dragon Age characters will see some iconic lines from both slipped into the story. It's madness and nonsense; in its own way a little bit of everything I've loved about Alice.

The yellowed paper caught Alix’s attention; shoved in the stack of progress notes and file updates, the curved edges pushed the stack apart. She’d organized the pile earlier in the day, making the addition an oddity she couldn’t explain. Pulling it from the papers she realized it to be a heavy parchment, something found at a stationer. The writing, too precise and perfect to be any of her colleagues, prompted a closer investigation of the page. Lifting her glasses, Alix marveled at the steady hand and strong strokes. “Impeccable penmanship.”  She wondered if the staff in the ward thought this a joke or a strange welcome now that she joined the department for the duration of her grant.

Allowing her glasses to slip back into place, Alix read the note aloud.

_Inquisitor,_

_If my words have found you, you must find a way. You slumber, unable to wake, but the elf insists only you can break free of the Fade. Alecia, I believe in you. Solve the riddles and return. The elf and the Grand Enchanter cannot reach you until you restore that which was broken._

_We need you or Thedas suffers._  
  


“Curious,” she said, “and quite mad. Someone captured my interest and then left nothing but nonsense.” Alix searched for any indication of origin. Finding none, she called for her assistant. “Lily, when you have a moment?”

Lily’s voice carried through the office before she appeared. “Did you need something?” Alix had inherited Lily from her predecessor. Stepping into the office proper, Lily pulled back the purple hooded scarf revealing short cropped red hair.

Realizing Lily planned to leave, Alix apologized. “You were on your way out, apologies.”

A mock curtsy and sly grin Lily’s friendly tease. “For you my lady, I shall delay.”

 “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Alix sighed.

 “The handsome Commander Rivers?” She batted her eyes. “Never. Besides, he’s not a guest, he’s terribly polite and very. . . _very_ pretty.” The head of hospital security always adopted a formal tone whenever he spoke with Alix, Lily insisted he’d developed a crush on Haven Garden’s newest psychology resident.

Loud ringing interrupted the two, Alix shaking her head from the sound. “I will never get used to that sound.”

Hurried steps carried Lily to the reception desk, snatching the handset. “The Haven Gardens at Skyhold General, Lily speaking.”

Leaning against the doorframe Alix waited for whatever work was about to find her at the late hour. She straightened hearing Lily’s side of the conversation.

“Commander Rivers! A pleasant evening to you too.” Lily waved Alix closer. “Why yes, Alix is still here, she never leaves, poor dear. If only someone would offer a more. . .pleasing alternative evening.” Batting her lashes once more, Lily’s teasing ceased as Alix’s widened eyes begged Lily to stop. Scribbling on her note pad, Alix hoped to interrupt whatever conversation continued at her expense.

_I’m on the night shift._

Her message written, Alix held the notepad aloft.

“I’m afraid Alix will be on duty tonight, Commander.” Thinking the matter moot, Alix stared in disbelief as Lily grinned listening to the security chief’s response. “How lovely! Please do check on her if you find the time.”

A wave of annoyance washed over Alix. Lily never knew when to quit. She excelled at extracting information without the other party realizing the subtle manipulations, but she loved gossip more than anything. Another scribbled message sought to end Lily’s interference.

 _Go home, Lily!_  
  
Alix didn’t have time for distractions. She’d have limited time to work with those assigned to her, and without a concrete timeline, she’d have to work efficiently. Taking time out to socialize, no matter how attractive and sweet Commander Rivers appeared simply wasn’t possible. Colin Rivers. Alix guessed him at least five years older than she. Unlike most of the men she’d known, his extreme politeness and formal attitude towards her proved he had no interest other than guaranteeing her safety. To think he would give her any consideration was ridiculous.

***  


Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

Evening came and morning followed and still Alecia Trevelyan showed no signs of waking. Commander Cullen had shed his uniform and opted to sit vigil over the Inquisitor expecting to fall asleep at some point in her room. Looking to Dorian once more for any sign of improvement, the mage looked away unwilling to meet Cullen’s hopeful eyes.

“Do you know why she sleeps?” He sat forward in his chair, rubbing his face. The motion did nothing to remove his concern. “Days, Dorian. The healers say nothing is wrong and yet she does not wake, Solas claims she is safe within the Fade and Fiona? She insists there is naught to be done but employ patience, but what do _you_ say?”

“Cullen, how do you think this works? I wave my magic staff and suddenly all becomes clear?” He sighed shaking his head. “In truth, were it that simple.” The resignation in Dorian’s voice had not lifted once since he returned with Alecia. “Alecia fell. Perhaps in some way it was my fault, having only just warned her to watch her step. I told her you’d be none too pleased if anything happened.”

The overgrown trees in the Basin carried them high above the ground. Alecia slipped and fell, but with heavy underbrush to cushion her, and a mix of magic and potions, she’d been laughing and enjoying the evening when they’d made camp. Come morning, they could not wake her.

_At first light, Cassandra roused the others, with much to accomplish, sleeping in wasn’t allowed. “Someone wake the Inquisitor.”_

_Vivienne agreed, standing closest to the tent. Minutes passed. Emerging alone, a hushed conversation began at Vivienne’s insistence with Solas and Dorian. The three entered the Inquisitor’s tent, raising concerns for all._

_Uneasy steps carried Sera closer. “Inky’s all right, yea? I don’t like that all the magic types are all hush hush and secrety right now.”_

_With Cassandra’s preoccupation in packing camp, Blackwall answered Sera’s concerns. “Let the mages work, Sera. It’s likely nothing. I’m sure everything’s fine.”_

_The elven archer pointed back at Blackwall. “Tell me another story that’s not steeping in shite.”_

_A small group congregated closer. “She’s got you there, Hero,” agreed Varric, “but yes, I agree with Sera- something stinks.”_

_Inside the tent, the conversation, while hushed, teetered closer toward alarm. “If she’s uninjured than why can we not wake her? And so help me if you utter one more word about the Fade.” Dorian’s warning to Solas received no reaction.  Instead Vivienne’s hardened features conceded first._

_“Then if we consider the possibility, one of you must venture to free her.” Vivienne’s matter of fact delivery met with disbelief._

_“One of us?” Dorian’s eyes widened. “Why one of us?”_

_A simple graceful move carried Vivienne to her feet. “Simple, my dear, I have seen enough of the Fade from the inside to know I have no desire to return at present.” Reserved and still somewhat defiant, she clasped her hands daring either to the challenge._

_Fearing nothing, Dorian accepted. “Ah, I see. The Lady has no desire to see the Fade. Well, that settles it! Then by all means, announce your refusal to assist, I look forward to the show.”_

_Unwilling to listen to another clash of words, Solas sought silence. “Let us return to Skyhold and I shall do what is necessary.”_

Cassandra’s heavy steps interrupted Dorian’s reverie. “Any change?”

Even in the dim candlelight, the solemnity on Cullen’s face answered her question before he spoke. “None.”

She sighed, taking a seat far enough away so as not to intrude, but close enough to speak at a normal volume. “I reviewed your deployments and have approved them. We can at least continue to hold our position throughout Thedas until,” her eyes glanced toward the Inquisitor, “we have answers.”

“Of course, Lady Cassandra, we may have to consider abandoning the Rifts and attempt to defeat Corypheus without the Inquisitor. It is not an impossible task, yet how long do we wait?” Regardless of the situation, Cullen’s attention on the Inquisition had not faltered.

She nodded. Leliana advised caution, hoping to see if Solas might reach her; the problem continued without a hint of progress. “Solas contends the Inquisitor is not lost to us, but stuck. She is not herself, and he fears that until whatever task her mind has set is complete, it will not release her from the Fade.”

Dorian studied Alecia’s face, his expressions changing as he contemplated the options. “Might either of you have a small blade?”

Reaching toward her boot, Cassandra lifted a push dagger from its hidden sheath. The wooden handle rested in one’s hand allowing the blade to protrude from the fist, the short blade meant for close combat. Seeing the shocked looks from both in the room, she shrugged. “It was a gift,” Cassandra explained, “impractical and yet it proved useful.”

Accepting the blade in his hands, Dorian crossed to the large bed. Cullen, uncertain, stood to block the mage’s advance. “If you think to injure her, you will find me instead.”

“Give me a little credit, Cullen. Call it a silly notion, but we have not tried a simple inducement of pain.” Seeing the scowl on the Commander’s face, Dorian explained. “I will not injure her save for a tiny cut, nothing deep, just to see if she reacts.” Seeing no change in Cullen’s stance, the mage continued. “Please, a small test, if you will. I expect nothing, but what if? We’ve tried everything else, why not this?”

Conceding Dorian’s words with a sigh, Cullen moved aside. “Nothing too great or too deep and you will heal her, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Dorian reached for Alecia’s hand, choosing her index finger.

***********  
Alix felt the sting of pain cross her finger. She sucked in a breath, quickly investigating her right hand. A tiny cut across the index finger pad stung as if the cut had just happened.

“Paper cut?” The words startled her, looking around she spied her questioner.

Victor Tetras tightened his hair band before hopping off a stool. He’d hidden behind the game room door. “Victor, what are you doing in here?” Victor Tetras, one half of the Tetras Brothers had committed himself weeks prior. Alix suspected nothing wrong, a mere case of boredom. A writer by trade, his brother Bart took care of the family holdings while Victor wrote novels-trashy novels.

Checking his watch, Victor shrugged. “I’m late, I think. At least, I thought I was late, but now I can’t remember what for or who with. Are you Mary Ann?”

“No. I’m not Mary Ann, or Mary Sue or any number of combinations. You can go home, Victor. Wouldn’t you prefer to go home?”

She knew the game. Victor rocked back and forth on his heels, raised a single brow and shook his head. “Nah. This is more fun. None of this shit makes any sense and it’s absolutely perfect.” He grinned. “Besides, you’d miss me. Who else would keep you entertained?”

Alix had recommended Victor’s release, seeing him talking to every guest and scribbling furiously in his notepad, he purposefully faked his tests, and his sessions-according to the notes-were filled with fanciful stories and anecdotes. No one discovered any concerns except for his excessive love of talking. Unwilling to fall into one of his long-winded stories, Alix reminded Victor to keep to the common areas.

“Oh, and Victor? No more betting pools, that includes those card games and that makeshift dartboard you tried to put in the game room. Lily knows everything that happens here, don’t try to sneak another one into the area, got it?”

He whistled. “Shit. She’s a scary one. You’d never guess it to look at her, but sure thing. No more betting, I swear. It wasn’t me, though. It was Bianca-she did it.”

Bianca was Victor’s excuse for everything anytime he got caught in one scheme or another, only there was no Bianca, she wasn’t real; Bianca’s existence was another ruse to pretend Victor wasn’t quite right. Alix humored him, but thought to extend her warning to the ever present and yet wholly invisible troublemaker. “Then that goes double for Bianca, you hear me?”

“No problem. See you around, Boss.” Victor trudged back toward his room, muttering for her benefit about a missed appointment.  

 _Boss_. Several of the patients had picked up on the nickname she’d acquired from one of their own. “They are not patients Alex, but guests.” The staff was asked to refrain from using the words inmates, patients or any other means of connoting incarceration. Most who rested here had led lives that required a skillful sense of understanding and a willingness to listen to their stories. None of them truly violent by nature, but many ended up here due to violence of one kind or another.

Checking her watch she wondered if her adviser had left for the evening. She had to admit that speaking with Silas always left her a bit unnerved. He spoke in riddles and often answered questions with more questions leaving her to wonder what his goal really was. She’d been warned about his odd behavior and appearance.

Refusing to dress as the rest of the staff, he arrived through an unseen entrance and wearing what looked like sleepwear. According to Lily, he’d refused any associations with incoming staff-except for Alix. The oddity that floated around Silas solidified with his physical being. There was a severity to his face, harsh angles and a piercing stare. But what intrigued her most were his pointed ears. The twins in the “B” ward had them as well, but the ladies claimed they’d paid to have them altered.

She’d made the mistake of asking Silas if he’d altered his, meeting with a cold stare and silence when Alix had first arrived. Wondering if Silas might help with Victor’s release, she turned down a darkened hall to seek him out.

Halfway down the hall, Alix realized the walls held no definition, and no light passed from the corridor at all. “Curious,” she said, putting her hands out to find the contours of the wall finding only emptiness.

A voice behind her asked for her purpose, startling her. Turning to face her questioner, a stern gaze quickly softened with recognition. “My friend! You’re early. I’m surprised to see you exploring darkened passageways without knowing the destination-adventurous and dangerous.”  Silas wore a non-committal smile shifting around her. Reaching out in front of him the light sharpened and the corners and lines of the space cleared.

“How? There was nothing there, I am sure of it.” Alix rubbed her eyes.

He gestured toward his office door. “A trick of the light. Perhaps we are asking too much of you, Alecia.”

“Alix, Professor. Only my mother called me Alecia.” Alix couldn’t show frustration, for whatever reason Silas refused to use her preferred name. “Please, call me Alix.”

Opening the office door, he tapped the top of a chair, waiting for her to sit. “Why? Are you not the same person? How is Alecia any different from Alix? Is the thing by which we call you the definition of you? Then the proper question, my friend, is who are you?”

Her head swam as it often did during her sessions with Silas.  To hide she frustration, she laughed. “If you’d asked me that question yesterday I might have answered it differently.”

Leaning back in his deck chair, Silas folded his hands resting his fingertips against his chin. “I see. As it is not yesterday and in fact is today, what would your answer to the question be?”

The sting of finger returned, Alix shifting her attention once more to the strange cut as she answered him. “Alix. I meant what I said. My name is Alix.”

“Alix it is –for now.” He sat up and leaned toward her. “A word of caution then _Alix_. Do not attempt to traverse the Eluvian’s gateway without me; I cannot be sure where your adventures might take you.”

She stared at him, not quite making sense of his words. “The what?”

“The dark spaces, like the one you happened upon here. Until you know where or who you are, the dark spaces are not for you.”

Opening her mouth to speak, Alix found no words fitting.

“I understand there’s quite the little midnight tea party every night. Perhaps there?” Not picking up on her confusion, Silas continued. “I find no relaxation in tea, I despise it and it has no great love of me.”

The way that he turned words around and confused her, Alix wondered what Silas’ endgame might be. “Professor? Where am I?”

He sighed.  “I worry for you. First you are not clear if you are Alecia or Alix and now you ask me where you are. Perhaps you should return home, do you remember where home is?”

Frustration boiled and she stood, clinging to the last of her composure. “You were the one who questioned my name. Not me.  Why must you answer every question with another? Where am I?”

He studied her for a moment, to her eyes his silence yet another challenge. “You, Alix, are at Skyhold.”

“Then why are you trying to drive me mad?”

“I myself often seek moments of clarity amid the madness. It is but one view of the world around you, Alecia. Look for the right view to find your way.”

“You mock me, why?” Surprised at her vulnerability and the sudden rise in tears, Alix excused herself from Silas’ office.  He followed to the door, offering apologies.

_______

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

Solas woke, his heart heavy from the trials he levied on the Inquisitor. Seeking the Commander, he tried the Inquisitor’s quarters first, finding only Bull keeping watch.   Solas’ contemplative steps carried him out into the courtyard of Skyhold to share his discoveries with Cullen.  

His explanation had to be precise to avoid misunderstandings or accusations. He hadn’t lied to Alecia, the world she’d somehow created in the Fade baffled him. So far removed out of time, she’d given new names to all preserving pieces of her companion’s personalities.

“She calls herself _Alix?_ ” Cullen said, the name foreign to his lips.

Nodding, Solas explained when he’d pressed her and asked about Alecia, she’d grown more agitated. “I’m unable to guide her out, Commander. She must follow through to the end of her creation. The Inquisitor is there, her curiosity, her intelligence – but when challenged. . .”

Cullen stepped forward. “What? You must tell me.”

 “She began to cry.” Shaking his head, Solas tried to clarify. “It is as if for a moment she saw the dreamer within. You more than most know the terror that flies at night, the fear that grips the heart and topples the walls built with care. Patience, Commander. If we hope for the Inquisitor to return the burden of patience falls to us.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alecia Trevelyan is trapped in the Fade; a dream world created after a traumatic fall in the Frostback Mountains. She has renamed herself Alix in this strange world, where pieces of those she has known appear with altered names and odd personalities. Alix wanders the halls of Haven Gardens Asylum at Skyhold General carrying on her duties to aid those around her.

 

One thing solidified for Alix, crossing the cafeteria. Silas’ questions could only be described as intentionally antagonistic. He meant to disturb her; she was sure. “How can the one person meant to advise me be worse than the residents? He’s mad.”

A lyrical voice spoke from high above her. “Lots of things are mad here.”   
Her attention pulled up toward the exposed rafters; a series of wide slats and beams crossed at strange angles creating a dizzying pattern overhead.  
  
Near the far exit, a man rested against one of the beams. Cody. He’d arrived with only his first name, nothing more than the clothes on his back and large hat, its brim three times wider than the norm. Soft-spoken and kind, those around him often sought to protect the young man, and his current predicament sent her reeling. “Cody! What are you doing up there?”  
  
“It’s quiet,” he replied, as if the reasoning should make all the sense in the world to her.  
  
Frantic scans of the room yielded no ladder in sight, but the red security phone offered a solution. Commander Rivers had the watch for the night shift. She snatched the receiver from its cradle and listened as it clicked three times.   
  
“Security, Rivers.” His voice, quiet and strong sounded through the handset.  
  
“Commander, this is Alix-“  
  
A loud clatter caused her to pull the phone from her ear. “Commander Rivers, are you all right?” Alix waited, hearing him curse and the shuffle of unknown objects until he spoke again.  
  
“Forgive me, a momentary lapse of coordination. Is there something you needed?”

At his words, a wave of familiarity where none should exist moved through her. She dismissed the thought as a side effect of her stress.

“Alix? Are you still there where are you?”

Keeping her voice quiet and even, Alix hoped to keep Colin calm. “Commander Rivers, I have a resident in the cafeteria sitting in the ceiling framework.”

“Cody,” he concluded with a long sigh. “Keep him company and know that help and a ladder are on the way.”

A momentary feeling of relief reminded her to be polite. “Thank you, Commander Rivers.”

“Colin, please. And for you? I’ll be there myself within five minutes.”

He disconnected before she could protest, knowing he had enough responsibility without assisting with the residents. She’d hoped he’d send a few attendants, not stop his work.    

Up above her, Cody settled back against the beam, pulling the brim of his oversized hat over his eyes. "He feels at peace, stronger when you’re around.” Cody yawned, stretching all four of his limbs, his fingers spaced wide. His manner seemed familiar, something she’d seen numerous times before. The image of a lanky calico feline perched in a stained-glass window jogged her memory.

“Dinah. That’s it.” Alix realized she missed her companion, but the lack of supervision at Haven Garden’s necessitated her shifts, her roommate Josie watched over Dinah, she was sure.

 

Cody’s wide grin stretched across his face, barely masked by the large hat. “She prefers the human world to the prince.”

“What?” Alix couldn’t understand what Colin referred to, but before she could question him further, he hummed a quiet tune and seemed to drift into sleep. “Cody?”  

She dropped into a chair to sit and wait. Still afraid he might injure himself, she hoped the Commander would hurry. Cody’s case fascinated her. She’d heard the term _a gentle soul_ many times before but had never met anyone who embodied the phrase until he arrived. The young man had been found in an abandoned building, half delirious muttering about those he’d failed to help.

The hat he refused to part with belonged to a friend, Cody had said, often hiding his face beneath it whenever he didn’t want to talk. Alix searched the room with her eyes looking for how Cody might have climbed up so high. “Is it possible for a man to become a cat to find a quiet spot to rest? I’m not quite sure what to believe.”

Another stretch and a yawn from high above her pulled Alix to her feet. Cody shifted to face her. “It doesn’t matter if you believe or not, perception is everything.”   

Taking a few steps closer, she questioned him. “What do you mean?”

He tipped the brim of his hat up with his index finger. “The little girl who lost her name couldn’t find her parents in the crowd. In the end, they weren’t even there.”

She couldn’t follow his response. “Cody, tell me about the little girl.”

“She wears a red bow, but the cat leaves it alone, preferring the bag.”

Alix resisted the sigh building in her chest. Cody could converse if he wanted to, but most times he spoke of cryptic people and places; she guessed he did so to avoid thinking on himself.

An echo of confident steps on the tile floor alerted her to the Commander’s arrival. _Colin_ , she thought, _remember to use his name_. A light smile caught her face as the Commander turned the corner maneuvering a large ladder on his shoulder.

“Alix,” he said, entering the room, “give me a moment.” He set the ladder on the floor and spoke with Cody. The exchange between them proved too quiet for Alix to hear, but she witnessed Cody’s reactions through the movement of his hat; a nod here or a shake there her only clue that a conversation took place in front of her.  Within minutes, the young man climbed down the ladder.

She stepped closer, but the Commander held up his hand to hold her back. Cody peered at her from beneath the brim. “I’m sorry if I troubled you. The girl from the valley saves them all. So can you.”

Cody apologized to the Commander with a promise. “I’ll return to my room but thank you for finding me.”

“Finding you?” Alix pressed him gently, hoping he’d explain. “Were you lost?”

“Yes and no.”

She could tell Cody had slipped back into his comforting vagueness, but Alix continued. “Were you trying to lose yourself or escape to somewhere new?” The color of his eyes, a blue so light and serene, the calmness within them matched his heart.

As he looked at her, she saw sadness and longing, and in those thoughts, she stepped back without realizing. “You can get somewhere if you walk long enough, but the question is, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know, Cody,” she said, surprised at the resignation in her voice.

Walking out of the cafeteria, he spoke over his shoulder. “Then it really doesn’t matter, does it?”

The Commander folded the ladder, its metal joints creaking from the effort, but Alix kept her attention on Cody’s retreating form. When he reached the end of the corridor, Cody turned to follow the left hall toward his room. He paused, his wide-brimmed hat and shoulder shifted, giving the appearance he might speak again. Instead a deliberate nod was all he offered.

“How curious, this has been a rather odd start to my evening,” Alix remarked aloud. A sudden awareness of the Commander standing next to her reminded Alix to thank him. “Commander, thank you for your help.”

“Colin. If you insist on such informality from me, might you consider the same?”

Warmth spread to her face, and she did not miss the hint of amusement on his. “You’re right. Thank you, Colin.”

He hoisted the ladder onto his right shoulder. “Should you need anything else, please call. I have it on good authority Victor and Ox are planning a late-night card game. I’ll check in on you once I track them down.”

Alix explained she’d seen Victor in the game room and offered to speak with Ox. He’d not attended his morning session and she’d been asked to check his mood. Ox wasn’t his real name, but a name he’d been given by his military unit; none of them felt the name Ferris Oxley quite fit him. A heavy loss during a joint mission of the army and navy saw Ox’s men survive, but at a heavy cost to the navy. He’d been sent to Haven Gardens to eliminate the exposure to the military. He was nearly ready for release, pending the military’s approval.  

Colin nodded. “Ox has had a rough go being separated from his men; it’s not been easy. It’s good of you to show such compassion.” He shifted the ladder. “Enjoy your evening Alix and please call if I can be of service.”

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:42 Dragon

Cullen’s keen eye caught the red tinge rising in Alecia’s face and raced down the stairwells to bring Dorian back to her chambers. This time the Lady Vivienne offered to assist citing the need to let Dorian rest. The three mages took turns keeping watch, but Cullen’s insistence on the constant supervision had worn the three to the point of fatigue.

His insistence normally would have aggravated Vivienne to sharp remarks and calls for caution, but she shared the mounting concerns weaving through the Inquisition. Even those closest to Alecia feared she might never wake. “Patience, Commander, I will not abandon the Inquisitor.”

He apologized, citing the lack of sleep and an ever-growing concern their efforts would yield nothing. Vivienne offered assurances; the three of them searched for possibilities, but all firmly believed Alecia was the key.  Upon reaching the Inquisitor’s quarters, Vivienne set to work. A moment later she declared the Inquisitor to be in no danger. A knowing smile and gentle voice assured Cullen his fears were unfounded. “She blushes, nothing more. Perhaps a version of you exists in her dream, my dear. The color of her cheeks is a good sign.” Vivienne’s soft steps carried her to the stairwell. “Please rest, I will watch over her until you return. What good will you do for her when this ends and you are unable to stay awake?”

Cullen protested but was ushered out and told not to return for several hours.   He stopped to speak with Solas but found him sleeping in his oversized chair. Thinking it better to let him rest, Cullen continued to his tower.

l-l-l

Down a darkened hall, Alix jumped when Silas appeared at the far end and spoke to her. “Have you remembered where you are Alecia?”

“Alix.”

Silas’ head shifted from side to side as if contemplating her outburst. “Alecia, until you remember where you are, you will continue to fight against who you should be.”

Her brows knit together. “Have you always been this confusing? I don’t remember any of our past discussions being so full of nonsense.”

“What do you remember? Who am I?” Silas leaned against the wall. “Tell me.”

Frustration pounded behind her eyes, the headache wrapped around her head and tightened. “You’re supposed to be my advisor.”

Silas did not react; his cool response underlined the possibility of indifference toward her. “How have I advised you?”

“If I’m to be honest, you haven’t. It’s rather infuriating how closed off you have become.”

When she finished, he moved closer; his cold blue eyes boring into hers. “I have looked into a mirror with no reflection only to see its true nature. What will you see? Is it the way forward or the way back?” She tried to back away, but Silas reached for her wrist. “Time will not wait for you my friend. If you do not find the path soon, I fear it may be lost to you. Forever for some is but a long slumber, for others, it is the end.”

Her chest tightened, flashes of a church with stained glass windows and impossible ceilings filled her head and she stumbled, her shoulder impacting the wall. _Come to distract me, have you? Give me a moment, and I’m yours._ Her head spun at the familiar words, and her knees buckled.

Colin Rivers’ voice filled her ears, breaking the strange fainting spell. “Easy there, I’ve got you,” he said at a half-whisper. “Breathe Alix, it will pass.” Inhaling slowly, she couldn’t place the scent of his cologne, but it gave her focus.

His hands rested on her shoulders, Alix leaning back against Colin until she felt her strength return. Once more her face warmed, and she quickly apologized.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded as footsteps from her left brought several more to her side.  Viola and Darren, the other two physicians on staff asked question after question but were sent away with Colin’s assurances he would help Alix to her office.

“She’s a bit flushed Commander,” offered Viola, suggesting perhaps a little air might help.

“I need to finish Ox’s exit paperwork,” Alix explained, “I got a little flustered after speaking with Silas a moment ago.”

The three exchanged glances, but Colin responded. “Silas left hours ago, and at this hour he’d have to check in with me for entry.  Where did he go?”

Confusion filled her, wondering if she’d lost track of time. “I . . . I don’t know.”

Viola offered to take over Ox’s exit interview and paperwork. “If one of you would be a dear and take our Alix here for a walk outside, the evening air might help clear her mind.”

Through regret laced words, Colin explained he was alone for several hours and could not leave, but asked Darren to keep Alix company until she felt well enough to continue. Without waiting for a response, Colin left to return to the guard station.

Darren chuckled at the Commander’s retreat. “Someone’s got it bad for you, Alix.”

“Stop, you’re sounding more and more like Lily. It must have been a trick of the mind, nothing more; I swore I was talking to Silas.”

He linked his arm through hers and ushered her toward her office. “Let’s grab your coat and see about a little break.”   

l-l-l

A wintry mix of snow and sleet pelted the two as they exited through the main doors. Darren’s grumbling ended as they hurried toward a glass enclosure. A grand sweeping gesture toward the bench coaxed a laugh from Alix, Darren straightened before he spoke.  “After you, my lady.”

Alix had grown tired of the teasing from all of them. “You’re as bad as Lily. Don’t start.” She hoped the teasing wouldn’t continue and sat, not taking her eyes from him. “Colin is just being polite.”

The left side of Darren’s mouth lifted to a hint of a smirk. “So, it’s Colin now, is it? Have a thing for our strapping Commander?”

Her laugh caught in Alix’s throat. _Have a thing for strapping young Templars, I see._ She heard Darren’s voice clear in her head. The room they stood in warmed by fires and torches and muted light shone through colorful patterns on small windows falling onto a comfortable chair. The alcove felt cozy surrounded by stacked books and rolled parchments. The image faded in blinding pain from the back of Alix’s head. She cried out, pressing her hands against her temples, unable to stop it.

“Alix!” Darren called to her half a dozen times, but the pain stabbed through her head preventing her from responding. “Alix, answer me. I need to know where you are injured, let me help.”

Rocking slowly, Alix took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. “It’s not real,” she said. “There’s no such place.”

“Alix? You need to tell me what is happening.” Darren’s voice grew more insistent.

 _WHERE are you? Where ARE you?_ _Silas and his ridiculous questions and now Darren. I’m here_ , she thought. “I’m here. Haven Gardens. I’m in Haven Gardens. It’s not real.” She tried to dismiss the images fighting to be seen. Winding stone staircases leading to large black birds on wooden perches, sharp black eyes glaring, their tongues hissed displeasure at her arrival. “It’s not real!”

Darren’s voice took on a demonstrative tone. "Now you tell me what is wrong this instant before I-"

“Dorian, enough!” His incessant talking and demands for information set Alix deeper on edge.  
  
It took a moment before everything quieted giving Alix the time she needed to fill her lungs and breathe deep. She counted down in her head; using the same techniques she’d learned from Silas to remain calm.

Opening her eyes, Alix realized she was alone. Darren hadn’t said a word because he wasn’t there. “He must have gone inside for help,” she said, recalling her strange episode. And then the recollection of her words struck her. “Who is Dorian?”

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:42 Dragon

Alecia’s body shuddered once more before falling still. Cullen couldn’t allow panic to take control, not when Alecia needed him. His chest burned for air and he realized he’d held his breath.

Dorian’s grip tightened on Cullen’s arm. “It has ended, at least for now.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Cullen reluctantly nodded in agreement, repeating Dorian. “For now.” He exhaled, climbing off the bed; his arms ached from the effort to hold her still. “What gripped her?” He stared at her renewed serenity, eyes closed in gentle repose giving no indication of the turmoil she’d suffered moments ago. Waiting for a response, he didn’t need an answer to see Dorian remained as perplexed as he.

“I wish I knew,” Dorian said as he moved opposite Cullen. Reaching across the bed to rest his hand on Alecia’s forehead, the back of his hand lingered. “The fever is gone, and she breathes without laboring, but as for how long a reprieve? We struggle against the Fade itself if Solas and Fiona are correct. I am afraid I have no answers.”

A wave of fatigue passed through Cullen; his hands reached for his neck and he attempted to stretch free of his exhaustion.

“You need rest.”

Cullen shook his head. “No. Not now. I won’t leave her, not after what I witnessed.”

“I will stay, go rest,” Dorian said with a hint of a smile.

Had it been any other day, Cullen might have ignored Dorian’s insistence, but standing in Alecia’s room, it annoyed him. “Don’t tell me what to do; I’ll not leave her.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something odd is going on at Haven Gardens and Alix isn't quite sure what it might be. In the waking world, Cullen struggles to understand how Alecia Trevelyan is stuck in the Fade, and a discovery at Skyhold weighs heavily on him.

When Alix first arrived at Haven Gardens, she loved the snow-covered walkways. In the daylight, guests and visitors often congregated on the paths. She couldn’t remember when she had last walked through the manicured gardens. When Silas had assigned her to the night shift, she traded sunlight for shadowed halls.  

 

The darkened skies troubled her at first, but Alix learned to consider it a private refuge hidden in the mountains. She missed the sunlight. She missed her cat. A sudden awareness unsettled her, halting her steps. _I left Dinah with Mother. She’s in Ostwick._

 

“I couldn’t take the cat with me to,” she stopped speaking, checking over her shoulder.  The lack of sound and Darren’s absence added to the rising discomfort. She spoke louder than necessary, more to reassure than anything else. “No doubt Darren got caught in conversation; better to head indoors rather than wait for him.”

 

A light dusting of snow covered the path. It was all too easy to lose the way amid all the twists and turns in the garden and Alix remembered to check the walkway for their footprints. Glancing at the ground, she noticed only one set; the pointed toe and square heel belonged to her. Alix concluded Darren had walked along the stone path; so even the snow didn’t coat it smoothly. She wondered why he’d do such a thing, but she found no other proof of his presence. “If I were to think too hard on it,” she said following the winding path, “I could devise any number of possibilities as to how, but each would be more impossible than the last.”

 

The unexpected crunch of frozen grass and snow packed from footsteps behind her, pulled her attention. Silas stepped from the shadows of the trees nearby. “Sometimes I have believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,” he offered. “Lost again I see.”

 

The frown on her face met with his raised brow and she quickly hid her displeasure. “You have the others thinking I’ve gone rather mad and I don’t appreciate it.” There was something gentle in his smile, she didn’t know why but it implied friendship and caring.

 

“If I have caused you distress, then you have my apologies.” Slow and measured steps toward her made her smile. A tactic she often used when talking in potentially hostile situations.

 

 _Is that what he thinks of me? Am I potential risk that must be placated?_   “Are you really my adviser?” She held back the second part of her question, the one that might identify her as more than a resident; she wondered if Silas considered her as he did the guests. _I’m not mad_ , she thought. 

 

 He shifted his eyes away from her. “Of a sort, yes. I suspect you may have questions, but now is not the time. Find me in my office at sunrise Alecia.”

 

“At sunrise? I’ll be home by then.”

 

His face remained expressionless and devoid of any emotion. “If that is true, then a conversation wouldn’t be possible, but Alecia, I fear you are quite mistaken.”

 

 _This is intolerable_ , she thought, _his need to repeat my name is maddening. There is no one else here and I’ve made it clear I dislike being called Alecia_.  “Why must you act so strangely?  Will you at least answer that?”

 

Silas stepped backwards slowly, shaking his head. “I am not strange at all Alecia. The truth of the matter is my reality differs from yours and I merely seek a way to show you the proper path.” He nodded once and slipped back into the shadows.  

 

 _The proper path?_ Once again Silas’ answers led to more questions and a deeper confusion. His insistence on calling her by her formal name made little sense. “My name is Alix,” she affirmed to no one aloud. “It was yesterday and today, as for who I may be tomorrow?”

 _You’re letting his oddities cloud the truth. Try to remember you’re not a patient._ “Guest. They’re not patients, but guests.” She considered Haven Garden’s insistence with proper nomenclature. “If those in residence here were truly guests, they could leave at any time.”

 

The soft flakes of a gentle snow hardened into icy pinpricks of frozen rain peppering her cheeks and nose. Wind pressed through the trees to find her, chilling Alix until she shivered. From deeper in the woods twigs chattered like clicking teeth. _Stop it_ , she thought, continuing her thought aloud. “Quite the overactive imagination, best to head back inside before you start to hear wolves and bears where there are none.”

 

To her right a branch cracked. Something heavy roamed. She froze. _It’s nothing_. Despite her conviction, her legs and feet refused to move. A trail of cold shivers traveled across her skin, but Alix forced a step forward.

 

From across the garden, she heard Colin’s voice growing louder. “Alix Trevelyan! Alix! Alix, can you hear me? Alix, where are you?” She craned her neck to see Colin just as he cleared the corner leading from the staff entrance. His stern expression melted upon seeing her; hurried steps bringing him closer. “There you are!” He explained the others had grown concerned when Alix hadn’t returned. “I may have overreacted, but I am pleased you are safe. We should return.”

 

 _Darren must have told him where I was._ Once Alix delivered assurances, she would follow. Colin talked as he guided her toward the security entrance. It would take longer to reach than the staff entrance, but his animated recounting of the search for her and his decision to look outside would carry them.

 

Colin’s conversation largely went unnoticed as they walked. Alix couldn’t quite understand how standing so close seemed familiar as if they had walked a thousand steps side by side. Quick glances revealed a rosy tint to his neck and ears; at first, she thought it a response to the cold. Until their eyes met, and she realized he’d been stealing glances. The flush on his ears grew along with a crooked smile. “You haven’t heard a word.”

 

Apologizing while stumbling over words and struggling for explanations, Colin’s soft laugh calmed her enough to say something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

 

“You didn’t.” He slowed even more. “I. . .I enjoy your company. I prefer my solitude, but you?” He sighed. “This isn’t the right time and yet I can’t quite seem to stay away. If things were different, then perhaps we might—forgive me.  I shouldn’t say anymore.”

 

Alix wasn’t sure what to say, the nagging feeling she’d been here before—seen this exact moment with Colin. _But it was daylight, wasn’t it? “_ What’s stopping you?”

 

He stared straight ahead as if avoiding her would erase how intimate their conversation had become. “An unspoken rule, I’m afraid. I’m not supposed to—”

 

“Supposed to what?”

 

“Think of you.”

 

She was sure somehow the distance between them had shrunk, but Alix worried more that Colin might hear her heart beating in the short silence that followed. “Oh?” Certain her face burned bright, Alix had little choice but to follow where she thought the conversation might be leading. “So, if you could _think of me_ , what then?”  

 

She wasn’t sure who had leaned closer first, but it hardly mattered.  Colin was going to kiss her. The whole affair was highly inappropriate; she’d known him only a short while. Alix swore the corner of his mouth raised for a moment and she sighed.

 

And then he stepped away, leaving her in confusion. “Not like this. Not here.” He reached for his neck, rubbed the back once and shook his head. “It would be inappropriate, we’re on duty. I should. . .you have guests to attend to.” He turned, gesturing toward the entrance. “Another time, perhaps.”

 

Stunned, she followed him in silence stepping inside as he held the door for her. Alix tried to catch Colin’s eye, confused why he’d pulled away from her. A mumbled an apology fell from his lips along with a promise to check on her later, just as Viola sauntered closer to the admission desk.  

 

“That was utterly fascinating, Alix,” Viola said with a hint of sarcasm. “Pity you were interrupted when it turned interesting. The Commander is lovely; sadly I fear he suffers from his past. I wouldn’t quite count on a second chance.”

 

“I thought we were supposed to maintain confidentiality and respect; we should respect his privacy. Minding your own business seems the best solution.”

 

Viola disagreed.  “If everyone minded their own business my dear, then the world might go around a great deal faster than it does, but the nature of us does not allow for such simplicities.” Her gentle hand rested on Alix’s shoulder. “Privacy is a luxury. Our lives are nothing but constant scrutiny and judgement; you simply must learn to act as if you know far more and care far less.”

 

“Sounds horrid,” Alix offered. “If that were true, then I wouldn’t want to go among people at all.”

 

“I quite agree, my dear but such is the game we play.”  Viola handed over a folder.  “Ox was asking for you. I’ve cleared his discharge paperwork; he can leave in the morning.”

 

Alix was sure Darren had already checked out her papers. “Thank you, but I was certain Darren finished the forms earlier.”

 

Viola blinked several times as if Alix had said something strange. With a furrowed brow and a quick glance around, she rested her hand atop the folder. “And who is Darren?”

 

Alix pulled away and laughed. “Stop it, now you’re messing with me. Darren may not be as tenured as you, but he can still approve my paperwork. You might try to be a little nicer to him; you must know he thinks very highly of you.”

 

“Are you feeling ill? Perhaps that minor tumble is a larger sign of fatigue?” Viola reached for Alix’s wrist and held it. “You’re agitated, my dear. All this nonsense with the Commander and Cody, not to mention chasing after our little impostor guest has stressed you terribly. Take a break, get something to eat and then visit Ox.”

 

Confusion turned to timidity in response to Viola’s avoidance of Darren. “I thought you two were getting along. I apologize.”

 

“Now I _am_ worried. I may not be your adviser, but I order you to rest for at least an hour.” Viola linked her arm though Alix’s leading her away from the entrance. “You must take care. Silas is clearly upsetting you. We have no Darren on staff here, my dear. Perhaps you misheard the name?”  
  
l-l-l

 

Skyhold 9:42 Dragon

 

Andraste’s outstretched arms hovered in blessing over Cullen’s prayers. Sunlight poured through the tall window wrapping him in the warmth of the Maker’s light, but Cullen felt nothing; the warmth wasted on a troubled heart. In the past, prayer had served as a gateway to peace of mind and serenity, but not now. The recitation on his lips forced and for the first time in many years, disbelieving.

 

He stood with a sigh, more audible than he normally allowed. Shaking his head, Cullen rolled his shoulders, collecting his thoughts before venturing though the garden and returning to Alecia’s room. A silent doubting thought made itself known; Cullen tightened his fist to dispel it. _Enough. She will wake._ Before he stepped from the chapel, Cullen set his jaw. Determined to cross the garden without revealing his concern or distress, Cullen hid all his emotions behind a mask. Quiet greetings tossed his way met with his standard acknowledgement, neither slowing his steps nor ignoring, Cullen nodded or replied in kind.

 

Entering the Great Hall, two waited for him. Lady Josephine stood in perfect stillness; her hands clasped in front of her. Behind her a young man tried to hide. “Commander,” Josephine said, turning to face the young man. “We, that is, something was found while laundering the Inquisitor’s clothing. I believe it may have some importance.”

 

With shaking hands, the young man passed a folded bundle of clothes to Cullen. He stuttered in his speech, prompting a reddened bloom to his face. “Ser. . .I mean. . .Commander. . .Ser.”

 

“Breathe and be at ease.” Cullen’s brow raised slightly glancing at Josephine. “You mentioned a found object?”

 

The young man nodded, offering something in his clasped fist. “Ser. This was in a pocket. The seam at the top. . .it . . .the thread, it. . .I.” Tremors in his closed fist intensified reaching toward Cullen.

 

He softened his expression and tried to smile. “It’s all right. May I see?” Cullen held out his gloved hand and his eyes widened at the sight of a silver coin. His coin. The face nearly smoothed as he remembered it. To his surprise Alecia had sewn it shut in her pocket. _She took it with her, but it failed in its task._ The frown appeared on its own, and Cullen quickly dismissed his disappointment thanking the young man for the presence of mind to bring it to Josephine.

 

She patted the young man on his shoulder. “You’ve done well. You may return to your duties with our thanks.” When they were alone, she spoke in a quiet voice. “It was a gift, I believe. Alecia beamed when she showed me. It meant so much to her and will again.”

 

“Yes,” Cullen said, meeting her conviction. “Maker see it so.”  


l-l-l

 

After the strange discussion with Viola, Alix refused to rest. Darren was playing some sort of game and she would let him have a piece of her mind when she found him. Given the late hour, she sought to find Ox and say goodbye before she missed his departure.

 

The corridors were empty; expected for this time of night, Alix took the various turns to reach the Phoenix Wing where Ox and a few other high functioning guests resided. The appearance of the twins shouldn’t have startled her, but their arrival had the desired effect.

 

They stood side by side, arms linked and heads tilted opposite one another. “So, what’s all this about you playing kissy face with Commander Cutie?”

 

Alix was sure it was Mara who spoke, she often parted her short cropped blonde hair to the right. “Mara, I thought we talked about these little nicknames of yours.”

 

“Did we?” The sisters looked at one another. “Can’t say I remember that, do you?”

 

Both shrugged in unison and the other sister spoke. “You’re wrong. I’m Mara. She’s Lara. I mean really, it's not that hard. Mara, that’s me, is always on the right.”

 

If Alix didn’t reign them in, the word play would start. “But you’re on the left.”

 

Mara giggled at first and it soon inflated joined by Lara both voices melded into a cacophony of bleating laughter. “Shows how smart you are. I’m on the right. Lara’s on the left.” Mara turned to his sister. “It’s the smarty ones that go a little batty first, you know.”

 

Lara nodded once in agreement. “Mmm-hmm. Contrary wise and all that, it’s the mad ones that make the most sense, too.”

 

“Ladies, please.”

 

Lara pointed at Alix. “See? She’s not quite mad yet.”

 

“I’m not mad at either of you.” Alix tried to use reason. “You startled me, that’s all.”

 

Mara shook her head. “No! not,” she stopped and raised her hands miming a set of claws. “Grr!”

 

Lara took over. “We mean all nutty like. You know? Squirrely? Like us only more shifty-shifty and wonky weird.”

 

Alix swallowed the sigh building in her chest.

 

“What?” Mara asked. “Something we said?”

 

 _Now I’ve done it_ , Alix thought, taking a step toward them. “No, you’re fine. Better than fine. It’s been a long day.”

 

“Has it?” Mara and Lara exchanged a glance.

 

“For me it has, but that’s neither here nor there,” Alix said. “It’s a bit confusing, I’m afraid.”

 

Mara crossed her arms. “Well, if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn’t, it ain’t.”

 

Lara scoffed. “You’re daft.”

 

Mara’s eyes narrowed. “No, you are!” And she stuck out her tongue for good measure.

 

“Now there’s no need for that, you’re family remember?”

 

The twins sighed and Mara turned to face her sister. “She’s right, but fighting is a lot of fun.”

 

“Agreed. So as not to upset the lady, we’ll have a bit of a fight, but not go on too long,” said Lara. “What’s the time now?”

Mara looked at her bare wrist and said, “Half-past something.”

“Let’s fight till something passes, and then have a snack,” said Lara.

The two turned around and continued their discussion leaving Alix in bewilderment. “Maybe I should reconsider a rest,” she said reaching the corridor where she would find Ox’s room. Light poured from his opened door and soft music carried to her ear.

She approached, hoping not to disturb him, but Ox’s deep rich voice called out to her. “Hey Boss! Get in here already.”

A light laugh escaped as she entered his room. Ox sat on a chair far too small for his hulking frame resting his back and head against the wall. The bed took up nearly half of his room; its use questionable from the pile of clothes, books and several boxes of hot chocolate his men had sent along.  “So, you and Colin. Yeah. I can see it.” Ox scratched at his beard and nodded, agreeing with his assessment. Hazel eyes held hers and he grinned.

Her cheeks burned at the thought of the guests knowing what almost happened between her and Colin. “Wait, what?”

He waved her shock away as if it were nothing. “Relax. He’s a good man. I approve.”

Eyes widening, her disbelief stumbled out along with her reply. “You. . .you approve?”

“Listen. I’ve seen a lot of shit. Trust me. I’ve seen the worst of some people and the best of others. You two? You’re good for each other.”

“But—”

Towering over her he rested a hand on Alix’s shoulder. “Thanks. For everything. I’m getting out of here and going back to the guys because you wouldn’t let me give in. Yeah, my career is likely over, I get that, but doesn’t matter. You saved them. I won’t ever forget it, Boss.”

She stared up into his face. “What happened to your eye?” She was sure the scars crossing his left eye were new. The strange patch covering the injury oddly familiar. “When did it happen? Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll get help.” She’d seen him yesterday, and all was well. “Who did that to you?”

“I’m fine. Hurt myself worse than that fooling around in bed,” he said with a wink.

Embarrassed, she covered her face. “Oh don’t start, Bull.” She laughed even more embarrassed she’d called him such a strange name. “Forgive me, Ox. I’ve had quite the day.” Alix moved her hands away from her face to find herself alone. “Ox?” The room sat dark and empty; a small mattress rested against the wall. _Where is the bed? What happened to all that stuff?_ The piles of clothes and suitcase had vanished. Stepping out into the hall she called out to him again, the rising panic in her voice adding to her distress. “Ox? Where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are bits and lines from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll here and there, a few paraphrases as well. Some of the nonsense is my own, but you'll forgive those attempts-I hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Skyhold, Cullen seeks Hawke in hopes of finding an alternative. In the Fade, Alix searches for answers but finds a most unusual tea party instead. When things go awry, the hospital administrator sends Alix to the restricted wing to prove her worth.

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

It was the weight of the coin clasped in his hand that drove Cullen toward the Rest and the most unlikely of allies. Marion Hawke. She’d hung around despite the ordeal at Adamant.  No matter the hour, if Marion wasn’t aiding the soldiers she was sitting at the same back table with whoever felt like joining her. 

Cullen’s nose itched and wrinkled at the strong smell of vinegar and chopped herbs hanging in the air as he entered. Cabot used a mix of elfroot and vinegar to wipe the tables and chairs, but Cullen doubted it did little other than sour the air for a short while.

He heard the half-hearted curse fall in Marion’s usual disdain. Through the years, their interactions were nearly always distasteful; with Cullen often warning Hawke against sordid dealings while inside Kirkwall. “I don’t care what you’re up to Hawke.  There is something we need to discuss.”

As he approached, Cullen saw Dorian and Varric sitting with Marion; a frown appeared at the thought Alecia might be alone.

Dorian stood and pulled a chair for Cullen to join them. “Fiona sits with Inquisitor,” he offered answering Cullen’s unspoken concern.  “Have a seat; I’ll get you a drink.”

Declining with a raised hand, Cullen explained he wanted nothing other than honest answers. “I know what Solas contends, but I fear we are losing the Inquisitor. What would it take for you to enter the Fade and help her? She trusts you Hawke, and if I’m to understand what passed between you after Adamant, you are here because of a debt that cannot be repaid.”

Marion leaned back in her chair. “That’s putting it mildly. All right. The truth? I could do it. Just bring me a bad guy. I’ll make it a clean kill, pop in and grab Alecia and pop out in time for tea. Will that work?”

“Hawke, be serious.” Varric’s warning tone and shake of his head worried Cullen.

“You want to. . .wait, you want blood? Is it really a requirement?” He sighed, answering without hesitation.  “No, I cannot allow it. Not even for her.”

Dorian rested a hand on Cullen’s arm adding to the conversation. “We are talking about Alecia, Cullen. Surely a little blood might be worth her freedom.” Dorian’s focus shifted away, staring off at nothing. “We have a few prisoners, maybe draw some from each, and then no one need die-”

Cullen stood so abruptly, the chair scraped against the floor.  “No!” He quieted his voice, but he rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms, before delivering his decision. “No blood, no blood magic.”

Hawke shrugged as if Cullen’s refusal carried little weight. “Then no Inquisitor.” She matched his conviction rising from her chair to stand opposite him. Despite their height difference, she matched his steeled glare. Stubborn met its mirror as both refused to back down until Hawke’s aggravation shook her until Marion banged her fist against the table. “You and your Templar sensibilities. You would rather lose Alecia than go against some silly words written in a book? Religious nonsense.  Cullen, what if I can bring her out? What harm is there?”

“I cannot allow you to kill another on a possibility.” Alecia wouldn’t approve, he was sure of it.

 “What happened to that precise and obnoxious logical stance you’ve taken on everything thus far? You would condemn all of Thedas to die rather than take blood from sentenced prisoners? Fine, the prisons are full of those who should pay with their lives. We’ve had enough sacrifice by those history will call hero. Do not add Alecia to that list, Cullen.”

He straightened his mantle, crossing his arms and settling on his feet before speaking. “You would _murder_ one to save another.”

“Thousands, Cullen. Thousands.” Hawke met Cullen’s accusation. “But if that one other person is the Inquisitor—the only one capable of closing the rifts and dispelling the demons permanently? You bet your arse.  Now, when you’re ready to take the stick from yours, come find me. Until then? Bugger off.” She slammed her chair back in place and stomped away, climbing the stairs to the second floor.

Cullen’s conviction deflated. “Hawke wanted to help; I could have listened or considered-”

“Nah leave it,” Varric said. “You see Curly, here’s the thing. Hawke didn’t want Alistair to stay behind. She was ready to die.  Hawke believed the Wardens needed him. And, sad to say she was right. They’re not doing so well.”

Cullen understood. The Wardens had suffered heavy losses at Adamant and continued to do so until Alecia ordered them out of the field and back to Weisshaupt. “Hawke couldn’t have known.”

“Maybe not, but this whole argument is about preventing another loss of someone Hawke admires. I’d guess she figured you’d agree.” From the second floor, Hawke shouted for Varric, ending the conversation.

There was little more Cullen could do, other than wait his turn to sit with Alecia. Heart heavy, he decided to relieve Fiona early. So lost in thought, he didn’t notice Dorian kept pace as he left.

“You might consider talking to Morrigan.  We’ve spoken several times, and her knowledge of the more arcane arts might yield something less offensive.”

Halting his steps, Cullen sighed. “I can’t condone something I know Alecia would reject. I can’t. To agree to this is a whole new level of madness—even for us.” 

l-l-l

Midnight.  Alix was positive the last time she’d checked her watch it had read midnight. “That was hours ago, wasn’t it?”

Wandering the corridors, Alix had almost convinced herself that fatigue melded memory and truth into a single night. “Ox must have left yesterday and as Viola said, I need to rest.” She dismissed the argument forming in her head.  “It was yesterday and not today.” She turned from the residence wing toward the recreation room. “Let me think: was I the same when I woke up this morning? How am I remembering yesterday as if it were today?”

A burst of laughter ahead of her was quickly silenced as voices hushed one another.  “Victor must be at it again. Another midnight tea party, even after I warned him.”  
  
She tucked the confusion with Ox’s departure to the back of her head; she’d check his files later—for peace of mind.  She nearly laughed at the thought. _Maybe that’s the problem, my mind is in pieces and if all my yesterdays are happening today, then everything I see has already happened._ “No wonder my head hurts.”

Another round of laughter met with even louder order to hush; the ring leader revealed herself in near drunken decree. “The next one who laughs owes me a copper!”  Once finished she laughed heartily at first but stopped. “Somebody loan me a copper.”

Alix had little choice but to break up the party; she suspected Colin wouldn’t be too far behind, and if the voice did belong to MaryAnne Pidgeon, then the possibility of facing Skyhold General’s administrator grew.

MaryAnne wasn’t a guest, but in fact served as Haven Gardens’ benefactor. A champion for the humane care of the troubled, she’d lent her considerable wealth and infamy to see those who needed care would receive it. The problem was she saw the hospital and Haven Gardens as an escape from her daily life often found cavorting with the guests.

Keeping quiet, Alix crept closer to the game room. She should have announced her intentions, but MaryAnne or Pidge as she preferred would appreciate the lighter approach. Before Alix could enter, voices addressed her.

“No room!”

As Alix entered, her jaw dropped and eyes widened. The entire room appeared transformed into the impossible; a grassy nook with flowering bushes and fruit trees flanked a long table with a frilly pink tablecloth. A white trellis sat in one corner, flowering vines twisting in and out of the lattice work.  The table could seat at least twenty. None of the chairs matched; Alix couldn’t count the full number. She noted some as small as a footstool increasing in size to the overstuffed pink fluffy chair at the table’s head. Every inch held china plates and ornate cups in mismatched patterns and sizes, some stacked one atop the other. The stacks teetered with every jostle and movement, and Alix couldn’t quite explain how any of what she saw was real.   

Golden plates held sweets piled so high they toppled for the fun of it, only to be fixed high again. MaryAnne moved from chair to chair, drinking from each of the filled teacups, slamming them down or stacking them before reaching for a new cup.  Victor sat in a large overstuffed leather chair, reading glasses perched at the edge of his nose his attention buried in a book he held aloft.   
  
He peered over the edge and winked, moving his head in such a way that he invited her in.

Tim Reinhaire, one of the guests, alternated between whittling a block of wood and popping sweets into his mouth; he hadn’t noticed that she’d arrived. When he reached for a pink frosted cookie, Tim glanced toward her and promptly shouted. “No room!”

Alix rubbed her eyes several times, near to certain she hallucinated the scene before her. “No room? But there are plenty of empty seats!”

 MaryAnne gulped another cup of tea, humming in appreciation. “It’s you!” She slammed the cup to the table, arms flung wide as if she planned to embrace Alix. “Wait.” She tilted her head. “Who are you?”

An annoyed sigh preceded a near whispered answer. “Depends on the day, apparently.”

Victor appeared from behind a chair. “Now you’re getting it!” He raised a mug in her direction. “Hey Doc.”

“Doc?” Alix moved closer to Victor, who sat far closer to the head of the table. “What happened to calling me Boss?”

The deepening crevice of his brow and shifting of his eyes revealed Victor didn’t understand. “Why would I call you Boss? Makes no sense.” He sunk out of view for a moment only to pop forward again. “You feeling all right?”

She slumped onto a large overstuffed red chair amid complaints and refusals of available room at the table. The pain in her head intensified; small pinpricks of light passing through her field of vision. Alix raised a hand to her temple, pressing the heel of her hand hard against it. “It’s just a headache. Nothing more.”

A scene flashed in her head.

_She stands in a spacious room, leaded stained-glass windows separated by stone columns. Colin stares at her, a massive table between them. A muffled woman’s voice directs a question to him. “Are you well?”_

_He meets her eyes with affection before turning to reply. “A headache. Nothing more.”_

The dull throb at the base of her neck intensified, and Alix whimpered, her hand shaking from the effort. Sounds dulled and Alix felt the room begin to spin.

“Hang on Doc, I’m getting help.” She couldn’t be sure which direction Victor stood; she’d squeezed her eyes shut. Warm vapors beneath her nose carried a sweet floral scent; she inhaled deeply.

“That’s it, another deep breath.” MaryAnne comforted Alix with soft words. It might have been the tea’s aroma, or maybe the vision, but Alix’s thoughts drifted.

_“I should go,” he says, a gentle hand tracing across her back._

_“You don’t have to; who’s to know? It’s still dark.” She points to the sky. “The stars are still awake.”_

_“Alecia. Now is not the time. Skyhold wakes. Can you not smell the morning meal on the air?” He copies her movement. “Look again. There is light beneath the stars and they will soon rest. I promise to wait for your return.”_

_She sighs. “Ever vigilant, Commander?”_

_His soft laughter warms her face as he nears. “For you? Always.”_

A sturdy hand clasped her shoulder rousing Alix from her thoughts. “What is the meaning of this?” The voice did not belong to MaryAnne. Harsher and more pointed, even her name carried a measure of haughty disdain.  Accented and forceful, Alix had a passing memory of a stern woman espousing various rules in the same tone when she arrived at Haven Gardens.   

A few quick whispers from Victor brought Alix to full awareness. “It’s the red queen, Doc. You might wanna wake up, like right now.”

Eyes opened wide, but Alix still considered the conversation she’d seen. _Commander? Was that Colin? If it was, it makes little sense. We were so,_ she searched for the proper word to convey the sense of joy and warmth in so few words. “Familiar—that’s it,” she said, finishing her thought aloud.

The woman who stood nearby tapped her foot; her pointed toe winking from the lights above. If stern and unyielding could be personified, it would be in the imposing form of one Amanda Pentakhost, the hospital administrator. She watched unamused in her tailored black pantsuit, arms crossed and glare fixed on Alix. 

“Administrator,” Alix nearly stumbled trying to stand, but righted her steps in time. “I was just breaking up the tea party.”  

Silence met Alix’s explanation at first, and then a sourness covered Amanda’s expression. “Explain yourself.” The direction was clear enough, and Alix knew better than to bother feigning a smile.

It was only in that moment Alix realized all evidence of the strange and impossible tea party had disappeared. The garden and all its wonders had vanished leaving only the drab stone grey colored tables and unremarkable chairs. Victor and the others sat huddled nearby, their heads buried in a card game.  To any passersby, it appeared as though they had been playing cards; the large pile of fake coins in the middle of the table suggested a lengthy game.

The unlikelihood of what she’d witnessed before held Alix’s tongue. She couldn’t find proper words or even a plausible explanation. The memory of the clinking tableware and soothing vapors still lingering in her prescient thoughts turned bitter. _What is wrong with me? People disappearing and seeing things that aren’t there? Am I going mad?_

Unable to address the immediate situation without raising more concern, Alix apologized citing a slight fatigue and promised to do better.

“I see.” More than a hint of disbelief carried in Amanda’s response. The guests had dubbed her the red queen some time before Alix had arrived. With a staunch reputation for caring little for emotional pleas and adhering to the strictest of rules, the hospital administrator did not suffer fools or tolerate silliness to any degree. “I brought you here to be an example. I expected so much from you,” Amanda said with a side glance. “It seems my trust was misplaced.”

Alix didn’t miss the collective gasp from those at the card table, but said nothing taking the scolding in stride. She was certain someone had taken to the corridors, the sound of running footsteps echoed growing louder until Colin burst through the doorway with Viola not far behind him.

Through pursed lips and narrowing eyes, Amanda glowered. “How nice of you to join us, _Commander_. It seems all the staff has failed me in carrying out their duties. You may return to your post. Alix, walk with me.” She nodded in Viola’s direction before adding more. “Tomorrow we shall speak of the twins. Once again, they managed to enter my locked office and painted my red dragons white. This will not do. Whoever heard of a white dragon? Red. My dragons must always be red!”

Alix recalled the abstract little statues; she couldn’t quite remember why the administrator had collected so many dragons, but Alix was aware of the twins and their incessant need to mess with the administrator; their pranks regarded as legendary around the wards.

Viola voiced her assurances and earned a rather loud and derisive scoff and direction from Amanda. “These guests are awake after lights out. I expected more from the staff than such nonsense. Off to their beds!”

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:42 Dragon

Fatigue carried Cullen across a crowded courtyard. Bull and the Chargers acknowledged Cullen’s path toward the main entrance. He planned to take the late evening watch over Alecia, ignoring the need for sleep.

There was a time when the discordant clangs and clatter and swords and shields practice lulled him into a relaxed state, but now each impact shuddered through him. What he needed more than anything was to feel the warmth in Alecia’s hand and renew his faith that she would wake.

The braziers burned bright in the main hall, the fire warming the overlarge room from the night’s chilled air. Sympathetic eyes glanced toward him, but none sought to interrupt the Commander on his watch; his lonely walk of resignation more apparent in his weariness. Even the whispers had ceased; none wanted to add to his burden. Most knew the guise of calm and strength was a lie, but they respected the effort it took to maintain the appearance of normalcy.

Reaching the left side door, Cullen winced at the pronounced clunk of the latch. Weeks prior, it would have caused him to question his actions, knowing his presence would send the gossip hungry into titters. Now he was no one of consequence; one more face in a long line of those who sat vigil with the Inquisition through what Josephine had spun as a prolonged field illness.

The sounds of laughter and voices above renewed his hope and Cullen took the remaining stairs with a growing anticipation.  He wasn’t prepared to see Cassandra and Dorian carrying on as old friends while Alecia’s spell remained unbroken. The excitement that had carried him crumbled, dispiriting his steps and stealing the last remnants of hope from Cullen’s breaking heart.

 Cullen hadn’t realized the severity of his frown until Dorian made a point to mention it.

“And there he is. Sullen Cullen.” Joviality changed to a scrutiny within seconds. “You are the picture of despondency. Frankly, it’s a wonder you haven’t flung yourself from the balcony.”

The insinuation of weakness irritated Cullen, his set jaw and keeping his retort from bursting free.

Dorian hadn’t finished his brows and gaze narrowing to show his displeasure. “Your melancholy has taken control of your sensibilities friend, and it has made you nearly intolerable.” Stopping his admonishment, Dorian’s harsh expression softened. “Others look to you for strength and reassurance. You are the Commander of the Inquisition and _he_ is needed now, more than ever.” Dorian thanked Cassandra for the conversation and promised he’d return in the early morning before his heavy steps down the stairs left Cullen staring after him.

Still seated in a chair, Cassandra’s watchful eyes remained on Alecia. “She has a slight flush in her face.”

“A good sign?”

“I wish I knew,” she replied. “I am aware of Alecia’s dislike of me. She believes I judge her actions too harshly.”

Cullen quickly countered, knowing Alecia’s thoughts on her companions. “No, Lady Cassandra. She seeks only to prove herself worthy of your support.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. “I was certain-”

“I have no reason to deceive you.” He nodded in Alecia’s direction. “You should speak, both of you, if Alecia wakes.”

She stood abruptly. “No more of this doubt, Cullen. Alecia will wake, of that I am certain.”

“Thank you,” he said, despite knowing her conviction to be nothing more than hollow encouragement.   

Taking a few steps toward the stairs, Cassandra offered her belief that Alecia’s time was far from over; the Maker had placed her in their path with a purpose. “I should very much like to know Alecia better. Perhaps soon.”

l-l-l

Alix had no choice. The administrator had ordered the change in plans and for some strange reason, it terrified her. Her destination had been off limits. Alix wasn’t sure what to do; she’d never set foot in the Griffin Wing of the ward. The rumors spoke of the one man who rested in the high security wing of Haven Gardens; he was dangerous, although no one on staff could ever find what he had done to warrant the incarceration.

Skyhold General kept no long-term prisoners; it simply wasn’t equipped to administer to violent offenders.  Standing at the entrance to the Griffin Wing, Alix’s fear took hold. Her hand shook reaching out to place the large iron key into the padlock holding a thick chain looped and secured through the door handles. Beyond the two small rectangular windows, Alix counted six torches hanging on the right wall. The firelight did little to dispel the darkness of the corridor.

She hesitated once more, nearly resolved to march to the administrator’s office and refuse; Alix would rather be sent home than face whatever waited for her in the darkened hall.  Startled as someone tapped her shoulder, Alix caught Cody’s hat in her peripheral vision announcing his arrival.

“Cody! You gave me such a start. You shouldn’t be here.”

The young man leaned closer, but stopped with just enough space not to bump into her. “He lost his heart when the stars fell, but she held it safe for him.”

Alix asked if Cody had ever heard anything about the guest inside the Griffin wing. “Cody, what do you know of the guest inside here?”

He sunk back against the wall. “A land ravaged by demons and a dark curse could only be cleansed with sacrifice.” 

The gasp escaped her and Alix stepped closer. “Sacrifice? But, why,” she asked, her eyes tearing. Her heart seemed heavier, and breath caught, Alix overwhelmed without understanding why. Hoping this was nothing more than one of Cody’s vague statements and not an explanation of the man resting alone, she had to formulate a question he would have to answer. “This sacrifice you mentioned, did the man try to sacrifice himself or someone else?”

He sighed and turned from her. “There was only one way to save them: destroy everything.”  

Using destruction as a means to save others made little sense, and before Alix could inquire further, Cody had seemingly disappeared. The rough iron key still sat firm in her hand. Alix hadn’t noticed the icy feel of the metal; strange as nothing nearby gave off a chill.  “You can do this,” she affirmed, slipping the key into the oversized padlock. The key fit without resistance and even before she could rotate it a full circle, the latch slipped and released its hold. It took far longer to uncoil the chain; someone had used an elaborate threading method defying all logic.

The chain untangled, Alix gripped the handle, expecting the door would require effort to pull. It swung free with little force allowing her to step inside the dimly lit wing. It wasn’t that she feared the dark; the unknown a far more frightening prospect. “It’s disquieting to stand alone and face a nightmare,” she remarked and then dismissed it, the dark thoughts foreign to her. “You have your imagination to thank for any monsters lurking in shadow.”  Once inside, Alix rubbed her eyes and wondered if she hallucinated.  The white walls she’d come to expect were replaced by large stone bricks stacked in a tight pattern. The air chilled suddenly around her, enough to pull a shiver adding to her discomfort. The use of torches concerned her; open flames in an unoccupied wing surely posed a problem. 

“It looks like I’ve stumbled into a castle or ancient ruin, but I don’t see how.”  Alix considered the stone walls and torch light coupled with the large lock and chain. “What kind of man would require these precautions? Locking him in without light or comfort? Are we so cruel as to subject another to such a lonely existence?”

Somewhere out of sight, a voice answered her. “The decision was not made in cruelty, Alecia. An impossible task, yes, but it was the only way.”

Alix’s heart sounded the alarm, beating faster and begging her to flee. “You. .  .you know me?”

He laughed. The sound carried no malicious overtures, nothing more than amusement. “Of course. I’m here to help you.”

Her head shook faster and faster as frightened steps carried her to the exit. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t know you. This is. . .this is. . .don’t come any closer!”  Alix reached for the door and tried to push it open finding it unyielding. The realization she’d left the chain and padlock on the floor adding to her panic. Someone had locked her in. She pounded her hand against the door as she shouted for help. “Let me out! I’m in here!”

Behind her, quieted steps barely registered, but she knew. Trapped inside with a violent madman, he would reach her.

“Alecia. You’re all right. Just a little lost. Like me. Only you. . .you can return home.”

She slid to the floor, covering her face trying to remember her prayers from when she was younger, but the tears and gulps for air covered the recitation.

“Your friend asked me to come. He wants to help you, as do I.” The man crouched nearby. “Alecia, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a friend, remember? It’s me—Alistair.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to leave the Griffin Wing of Haven Gardens, Alix accepts Alistair's hospitality. In the waking world, Cullen concedes and gives permission for Solas and Cole to use whatever means possible to break Alecia free of her Fade dream.

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

Books and parchment exploded outward from Cullen’s desk, sent flying by Marion’s anger. The ink well had tipped in her fury, a steady stream of black liquid fell from the desk’s edge pooling on the floor.  “You can’t just leave him there!”

If her tirade disturbed either Solas or Cullen neither revealed even the slightest discomfort. Solas answered in his usual controlled speech. “I have no means to bring the Warden out of the Fade. He is a part of it now.”

She rounded the desk and stalked toward him. “Part of it? You saw him? You spoke with him and you just said he knows who he is and what happened and you can stand there and say Alistair is a part of the Fade?”

“Yes,” Solas said.

She shook her head and pulled up her sleeves, but Varric slipped in front of Marion. “Now come on Hawke, I know what you’re thinking, but we can’t help the Warden. He’s gone.”

“Bullshit! That’s a steaming pile and you know it!”

Cullen had listened without interfering, but Alistair’s loss had pained him, too. Eyes closed he pinched the bridge of his nose; a futile attempt to stave off the dull throb behind his eyes. “Hawke, please. We’ve been through this and Solas examined every possible solution.”

She refused to relent, demanding more. “Then examine it again until you find a way to crack the fucking Fade open and pull him—the fuck—out!”

Once more Solas appeared unfazed by Hawke’s outburst and Cullen’s silent gratitude spilled out into words. “I understand nothing is as simple as it appears when it comes to the Fade and appreciate all you’ve done.”

 

l-l-l

The hall of Griffin wing sat stark and lit with torches; a musty odor hung low in the dim corridor. Inside Alistair’s room, Alix didn’t know where to look first. She expected cold walls of stone and sparse furniture, not a sun swathed forest clearing with a small cottage and stream.

A white horse drank from the water’s edge, its tail flopping in lazy circles. By all appearances, the forest itself went on for miles; Alix glimpsed a misty wood far off in the distance.

 _It’s not possible_ , she thought despite the evidence before her, _this must be a dream_. She rubbed her eyes in confusion. “Where are we?”

There was something comforting in the rich laughter and mirth that grabbed hold of his eyes.  “That’s a bit of a loaded question, I’m afraid.  I’m not entirely sure I understand it all quite yet.”  

She hurried from the room back into the corridor. Staring through the windows of the locked ward doors, Alix could see the grey walls of the corridors beyond; one of the overhead lights winked on and off. “What’s going on here?” She turned on her heel, falling back against the door. “I’m still here. This is Haven Gardens.”

“Is that the name of the place?” He chuckled, but Alix didn’t understand why he found it funny. “Oddly fitting, I suppose.” Alistair exhaled as he approached.  “Don’t you miss your home? Your friends?”

“I have work to do here; these people need my help.”

“Do they?”

Something in the way he looked at her carried the notion of sympathy; as if she were the afflicted.  “Darren is missing; I’ll admit I am worried he would have told me he was leaving. I should get back to my office and find him.”

With a furrowed brow Alistair admitted he’d never met anyone named Darren in her company. “Unless you mean Dorian, a rather witty mage from Tevinter with all the restraint of a courtier during the summer season. In other words, nearly none. Now _him_ I remember.”

Alix’s head pounded. “Dorian? I. . .a. . .a. . .mage? I don’t understand. What about Ox? Was he a—what was it?” She pressed the heel of her hand against her head and stumbled. _If Darren was actually this Dorian and whatever a mage was, what of Ox? Where was he?_ Her eyes watered as a band of pain slowly tightened around her skull.

Alistair rushed to her side. “Easy Alecia. Maybe we should sit and wait for the boy.”

“Who?”

He laughed nervously. “I’m afraid my memory slips away now and then. I was told it might happen on occasion. I’m not dead yet, but then again, not quite alive either.”  

Upon hearing his words she mustered as much support as her discomfort would allow. “You are very much alive, you’re here with me.”

“If only, my dear,” he said. The slight melancholy in his tone contradicted the smile he’d worn since they’d met. 

Squeaking door hinges and the hollow sound of her shoes against wooden planks of the cabin floor sounded real enough to her ears, but she still sought confirmation. “This is real?” She scanned the cabin’s interior seeing nothing false or fabricated, modest furnishings presented a cozy image.

 _It’s out of children’s tale_ , she thought, eyeing the overlarge bed piled with fluffed pillows and a blue and grey quilt. The walls held a few torches encased in metal baskets; she guessed the cages served as protection against the flames burning out of control.  A modest fireplace, complete with hanging tea pot and a swing arm holding an iron pot waited at the opposite end of the space. “I don’t understand.”

 Alistair’s gentle touch on her elbow guided her to a small table with several chairs. “Sit. I’m sure the others will arrive soon. Tea?”

“Others?”  

He didn’t answer her question at first, busing himself with the kettle over the fire.  “I’m getting used to being here. It’s not quite what I remember, but then I was much younger.”  He chuckled. “All of this must seem quite mad to you, but I would not have agreed to this for anyone else. I’d hoped to find someone here, but so far she,” he coughed. “It doesn’t matter, this is about you.”

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

Cullen stared at his hands. _Have I exhausted every option? Is there nothing more than this notion of forcing the truth so Alecia might remember?_ His palms were more lined than he expected. Creased and rough, he’d never taken the time to consider the coarse feel of his skin. Had Alecia ignored it or merely tolerated his touch? Taking her hand in his, he dismissed the doubt creeping into his thoughts.

She was far stronger than Solas and the others contended. Alecia’s true gifts lay invisible to even the most discerning eye. A sharp mind and exacting wit, she needed no one to explain what she could see. He leaned closer whispering, “if you would open your eyes, I could stop their plans. Alecia, please.” He squeezed her hand hoping for a response.

Receiving none, Cullen’s head dropped with the weight of the decision. “Do what you must. May she forgive us.”

l-l-l

The edge of her chair seemed to sharpen against Alix’s leg urging her to move. The wood grew more substantial beneath her, as if the chair changed size while she sat. Ridges formed beneath her. _Rings, not ridges_ , she thought. _Just as old wood should have._ The more Alix considered the trees, she swore the seat curved. The chair was becoming a tree _. Don’t be daft. It’s just a chair_. Several attempts to shift comfortably failed and the discomfort grew until she stood.

Alistair smiled knowingly. “You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?”

“What?”

He pointed at the chair as if the gesture would make sense to her. “The chair. It doesn’t feel real anymore. Right?” Leaning forward, Alistair’s eyes unfocused, and as he spoke the joviality he’d carried since they had met melted away. “I can’t say when it started for me. What I remember most was not knowing if I was alive or dead. I don’t recall how I ended up so far from the battlefield; I was alone. Lost. And then suddenly I wasn’t lost anymore.”

Alix wondered if he suffered while in service, much like Ox. “You were injured?”

He shook his head slightly before answering. “Not that I remember.” Alistair shook off the thought and a smile crept to his face as he met her concern. “I even tried holding my breath.” He shrugged. “Apparently even here one needs to breathe.”

Alistair wasn’t like the other guests. His cheeks had far more color, a rosiness that didn’t exist in any she had known at Haven Gardens. There was a vibrancy to everything about him, even his presence appeared so very real to her. The only thing he shared with those in residence was his past. It pained him, even covered him as a shroud of bleak memories haunting his existence. She could help him there.

“What happened?” She asked the question with all sincerity.

He laughed with a familiar nervousness. _Even Colin does it_ , she recalled. A way to deflect the hurt of whatever would follow, as if the act of laughing numbed or dulled emotions and the sting of painful memories.

“I met an extraordinary individual,” he said leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “We shared a mutual goal, although in truth we approached the problem for vastly different reasons.”

Alix wished she’d brought something to write notes or anything to hold. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands and the strangeness that had infiltrated her thoughts had returned. Focus Alix. Her self-admonishment served as a reminding to hold herself together and not to disrespect the man sharing his story.

“You were friends? Comrades?”

The same soft smile spread across his face and Alistair licked his lips. “Not at first, but I admire her greatly. I would like to think I made an impression, but as of late I fear I didn’t quite hit the mark.”

Alix wasn’t sure if he was teasing or merely so full of himself he didn’t hear the arrogance. “Did you want her to find you impressive? You enjoyed her company and she didn’t notice you, is that it?” She’d allowed her personal distaste to flow into the session. _It isn’t a session, Alistair is not a guest._  

His laughter in response carried genuine amusement. “No, nothing like that. My. . .well. . .let’s say the one I had hoped to have a life with? She. . .she died,” he said, his smile fading into a controlled mask.

She closed her eyes with a cringe. “Forgive me,” Alix offered, surprised at how improper she’d become. “I should leave you.”

The kettle intervened; cutting through her embarrassment with the top jiggling from the steam escaping. “You should stay. I took no offense,” he said reaching for a heavy canvas cloth. It was thick and likely stuffed in the center to prevent burns.  “I’m afraid I have only one type of tea, although I suspect you’ll enjoy it.”

She watched him grip the old and weathered teapot; it carried the same oddity of being as Alistair. Despite its dark black patina on the metal, it appeared more vibrant than the furnishings and walls of the cabin. The deep blue tin of tea he’d placed at the corner of the table almost shimmered in the firelight; its color more saturated than she’d ever seen. _How entirely curious_ , she thought, _why Alistair? Why did only certain objects seem more real?_  

He played the perfect host, even mentioning the tin had been a gift; a remembrance of a place he could no longer visit.

Alix held the cup in her hands, allowing the searing heat to test her waking state.  She fought to hold the cup until the pain spreading from her fingers through her palms assured her of existence and she returned it to the table.  Rubbing her hands together she asked, “Why can’t you visit? It’s never too late.”

She read the sigh in his shoulders and chest, but Alistair made no sound until he sat. “I’m afraid so, the route is—at least for me—impassable.” He nodded toward her. “Are you injured? I may have a potion somewhere, but I can’t say if it’ll help.”

“A potion? I thought those things weren’t real.” 

He picked up his cup; his grin spread slowly, eyes shifting toward her several times. “Depends on your perspective, my dear.” His brow raised as he took a sip and he winked.

Alix drank without care for the hot liquid, still seeking some explanation for the oddities around her. As she drank her tea, she noticed despite the slick interior and shine she cast no reflection in the cup’s bottom. “Well if that isn’t curious.”

“What?”

She explained the lack of reflection, and Alistair waved it away. “Trick of the light.”

Brows knit together, she asked if he could see his.

“If it’s that important, then give me a moment.” He gulped the liquid and stare intently into the white teacup. “Wouldn’t you know it? I can. Let me get you another and we’ll change seats.”

Alix shook her head. _You’re letting this get to you. Keep focused_. “You know, maybe I am going mad.”

He stood and shrugged. “My dear Alecia. You are most certainly mad, stark raving bonkers and off your head! But I'll tell you a secret," he grinned before continuing. "All the best people are.” A firm knock at the door grabbed Alistair’s attention. “Ah, it’s about time; if you knew as much about time as I have learned, you’ll never waste it.” 

Most of what Alix had seen she’d been able to explain away as fatigue or even misunderstandings, but when Silas entered the cabin with Cody following in near frantic steps, the fear spreading through her made little sense.

Cody pushed ahead and the slow nod in Alistair’s direction spoke of recognition. Her throat tightened.

“Alecia,” Silas greeted her quietly and without meeting her wide-eyed concern at the pair’s appearance. Unwilling to respond, her eyes followed the young man staking out a spot against the far wall. His head bent forward obscuring his face completely. The air grew more stifling and she wondered how long she had to stay before slipping away.

“It’s too warm,” Cody said. “I want to go.”

It took a moment for Alix to realize Cody had verbalized her thoughts. Despite the impossibility of such skills, she wondered if he could help her. _Help me_ , she thought, focusing everything on Cody. _I don’t understand. Why is this happening_? She glanced toward the cabin door wishing Silas wasn’t there. She wiped her hand across her forehead.

“Fear. Confusion. The walls close in and the way is blocked. So hot. Why is it so hot?”

Silas moved toward the table and sat. “Cole.”

Raising his head, the young man’s eagerness flowed through his protest. “I just want to—”

Silas smiled. “I know. Soon.”

Heart hammering in her chest, Alix shifted toward the door. “What do you mean soon?” Panic crept into her questioning, eye darting around the room. “Who’s Cole? What’s going on?” She noted a similar vibrancy to Cody and Silas; it hadn’t concerned her before in all her dealings. _Something isn’t right, they’re all the same. Sharp and focused where everything else is almost,_ she searched for the best explanation and found none.

“She knows,” Cody whispered.

“Cody?” Alix couldn’t believe it; Silas had somehow convinced the young man to participate in some scheme meant to frighten her.

Through it all Silas gave no indication of rising to block her escape. It was Alistair who managed to get between Alix and the cabin door. “Alecia,” he began with hands raised and a quieted tone. “We want to help you.”

Alistair had fooled her. “You’re not a guest, are you?”

“No, but I am your friend.”

 

l-l-l

 

Cullen wiped Alecia’s brow, the beads of sweat concerning. “I thought the fevers had broken,” he said to no one, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. She wasn’t feverish.  He whispered prayers reaching for her wrist. The surgeon had explained a rapid pulse might indicate distress and his eyes widened feeling the racing thrum beneath her skin. This was how it had started before, her brow, the rapid heartbeat had led to that horrid episode. Alecia hadn’t had one since; the conclusion of healers and surgeon concurred it had been the worst of her head injury. _But what if they’re wrong_ , he thought, weighing the risk of leaving her over further deterioration.

He had a guard on each door leading to Alecia’s quarters, but none outside her room.  Privacy had dictated some separation. Cursing his lack of foresight, Cullen hurried down the steps and out the door. He couldn’t recall who had the shift, but it hardly mattered. Alecia needed help.

Cullen reached the second door only to find Dorian in the hall ahead of him talking with the guard. “Come quickly and send for the surgeon!” The soldier nodded and took hurried steps away from them.

Dorian followed Cullen, meeting his urgency. “What’s happened?”  

Rushed explanations shared Cullen’s concerns. “I know it might only be another dream state, but what if it isn’t. What if she—” He stopped and tightened his hand into a fist; an act of restraint meant to elicit control over his emotions. “I fear for another episode; I thought it best to seek help.”

 

l-l-l

“Help me?” Caution led her in backwards steps. A shimmer of light moved from the left to right. Everything rippled in her eyes. For moment she thought of rings in a pond after a stone had broken the surface.

And then, something caught her eye. None of those in the cabin seemed affected by the ribbon of light; the teapot and blue tin rested on the table also untouched. Cody whispered to Silas, but Alix couldn’t hear him.

Silas stood with little effort. “You’re in the Fade, Alecia. You can see it, can’t you? This world isn’t real. You created it. Somehow you’ve managed all this, but you must return. Surely, you remember the way?”

A sharp stabbing pain at the back of her head caused Alix to wince. “I thought I knew the way just the this morning, but then everything changed and now I cannot say with any certainty if left is right or right is left; there’s nothing making sense and all that remains is nonsense.” She pressed the heel of her hand against her temple. “I’ve witnessed a boy that thinks he’s a cat, a garden tea party that disappeared in the blink of an eye, twins that speak in circles and a quiet wood inside a hospital wing! I don’t understand!” She thought of Colin and wondered if he might help her.

Cody lifted his head. “Seated, his thoughts are of you alone. He waits for a sign of your return. If only he had known.”

 A quick word from Silas stopped Cody’s speech, and the tears that pooled in her eyes were quickly dismissed.   

She laughed instead; a hollow sound of feigned indifference allowing nerves and surging fears to address Silas. “This is all your doing. Where have you taken Darren and Ox?”

His light smile unnerved her more. “I’ve done nothing to them, they are memories given form. Neither exist.”

Cody shifted closer to Alix and she backed into the cabin door.

It pained her to shrink away from Cody, she guessed Silas had poisoned his mind, convinced him of this false truth. “Cody, can’t you see what he’s doing? Let me help you, it’s not safe for you here.”

A frown and furrowed brow crossed Silas’ face.  “We’re running out of time. Soon you won’t be able to return, your mind will be lost here.” He reached for her, and while there was no malice in his demeanor Alix shouted a warning to leave her alone.

Alistair cut between them, giving his back to Alix. “Now just a bloody moment! I said I’d help, but you’ve frightened her and it’s no good to keep on this way. There must be another option.”

Silas nodded. “All right, perhaps there is.”

A heavy sigh carried Cody to the table. “The time has come, the Warden said, to talk of many things. Of duty — and demons — and sealing rifts —Of the Inquisitor — and keeps — And why the sky was ripped apart —And whether nugs have wings.”

“Must I?” Alistair’s reluctance struck Alix particularly because he’s been so talkative before the others arrived.

“I’m afraid so,” said Silas.

Alistair returned to the table and pulled out a chair, patting the seat. “If I must, then please sit, my dear. I will tell you everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several of Alistair's lines are paraphrased from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. One of Cody/Cole's lines is a re-imagined opening from The Walrus and The Carpenter scene in Alice in Wonderland.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Alistair's turn to help Alix understand and he shares the truth of his predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This addresses Alistair stuck in the Fade post Adamant.

Despite all eyes fixed on Alistair, he stared unfocused toward the wall, not engaging any who joined him at the table. “When the stones beneath our feet gave way, I was certain—doesn’t matter. We lived and ended up in such a strange predicament,” he said shaking his head.  His shoulders caved inward briefly, his physical presence weighed by some private thought, until he turned to smile at Alix.

“Why, I remember it now. You landed safely but without much grace thanks to whatever carried us to the ground without injury. I somehow managed to settle on an upright wall, in a most impossible way.” He shrugged. “It was bad enough to be so disoriented, but to have your feet planted on a side wall quite the opposite manner than the others was well,” he paused, scratching his cheek with his index finger, “more than a little unnerving.”

She’d talked with those touched by trauma and despair in varying degrees, and all of them spoke in recollections, as if their delusions were real. She frowned at her slight, correcting her thoughts. _To him, the illusion is real._ She had to keep Alistair talking; perhaps he’d reveal what truly happened and not the story he fabricated to cover his pain.  “Who else was with you?”

He seemed to consider her question, but the look he gave her implied a certain disbelief; he started to say something, but a glance at Silas quickly stopped his speech and he cleared his throat before continuing.

“Marion was the next to arrive near me; she hovered—actually hovered—before falling to the ground, but then you were there, are these details really so important?”

Alix nearly blurted out her denial, she had no such recollection, no memory to match his. _There is a certain familiarity about him_ , she thought, _Alistair believes we know each other well._ “This isn’t about my story, though.”

For the first time since they began talking, his expression darkened. “This isn’t working,” he said to Silas with a sigh. “How can I reach Alecia?”

Her anger flared at the thought of Silas arranging this without her consent and how both seemed to speak as though she were not present.  “Alix,” she said, her jaw clenched. “My name is Alix and I would appreciate I might continue my discussion with Alistair without interruption.” Silas answered Alistair, completely ignoring her.

“Perhaps the beginning is too vague and unremarkable. I suspect the answer lies near the end.”

A side glance toward Alistair and his raised brow conveyed just enough for Alix to guess he wasn’t in agreement.  Silas’ dismissal of the story sparked a need to defend Alistair’s right to speak. She tossed a disapproving glare in her adviser’s direction before reassuring Alistair. “If you want to tell the whole story, then do. I don’t think it will cause any harm.”

“If you don’t think, then you shouldn’t talk,” Silas replied.

“Hey!” Alistair’s shout startled Alix. “You asked for my help, remember? Now, play nice or I’ll see you both out.”

Rubbing her eyes, she fought back fatigue and confusion. They were getting nowhere. “This is impossible.”

Alistair reached for her hand; this time Alix allowed it. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Only if you allow it so, my dear.”

Letting go of his hand, Alix shook her head.  “No, you don’t understand!”

With a frown Silas interrupted. “Keep your temper.”

She scoffed. “Is that all?” Alix dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Everything here is wrong. I can’t remember who I was yesterday, or if the sea is boiling hot or what day it is, let alone the time.”

Cody added to the conversation from under his hat. “I growl when I’m pleased and wag my tail when I’m angry.”

“You see!” She pointed at Cody, using his words as proof. “It’s all madness. Madness! And I would like to go home, but I don’t remember the way.”  

 “You’re losing her,” someone in the room said. The voices diminished, as if the speakers had left the room, but continued the conversation.

“It appears we are too late,” replied another.

"I know what happens when order is lost and action comes too late," Alix countered. A sharp twinge at the back of her head elicited a groan.  “Why did I say that?” _Moreover_ , she thought, _they aren’t my words, and if they are not, then whose?_

l-l-l

_He was interesting, she had to admit. Standing near the training ground, she smiled.  Haven was colder than she expected, but the snow drifted down in occasional flakes. She could get used to the frigid temperatures with him as a distraction. A silent reminder that the Commander was off limits given their allegiances, reset her thinking._

_For a moment she nearly turned back, but regardless of their roles, she was determined to talk with the Commander. An adviser should be respected, no matter the background._

_“Herald!” A voice called to her from behind, and when she turned, the Commander raised his hand to her as he moved through the sparring ranks. “Forgive me, I wanted to apologize for my rather,” he stopped as if searching for the proper word._

_“Spirited point of view? And it’s quite all right Commander, I am honored to have such dedication in those I hope to serve with.”_

l-l-l

She pulled free to the repeated call of her name to find Alistair standing before her.  “Well, that was rather scary. Are you all right?”

Nodding, Alix offered a half-hearted smile. Unsure of what had happened, she went along with it.  Alistair led her to a chair and shifted his own to face her. _He’s rather sweet, showing such concern. Did I get lost in my thoughts? Maybe I have been working too hard and Viola suggested._ It was then she noticed they were alone.  “Where are the others?”

“I sent them away,” he said. “I’d agreed to help, but those two only agitated you, which I found incredibly rude.” He exhaled and leaned back in the chair. “Now where was I?” He wobbled his head back and forth, until he snapped his fingers.  “Right. The Fade. Well, I won’t bore you with the details of our party slogging about, fighting one epic battle after another.”

“And what is this Fade?”

“Ah,” he replied, “how about you indulge me—just a bit—no matter how odd the story gets?”

Alix agreed. Something told her she wouldn’t get to the root of the problem without hearing his tale.

“On to the big hairy truth. In this case it was a big hairy spidery demon that seemed determined to prevent our escape. It led to an impossible decision. One of us had to stay behind.”

Her eyes widened. “A. . .a demon? You know there is no-”

Alistair cut her off with a wag of his finger. “Now, now, you promised.”

Conceding, Alix assured him of no further interruptions.  


l-l-l

All he had to do was keep the demon occupied while the others escaped. _At least live long enough to see them safely through and give this demon a really bad day_ , he thought.  Alistair rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his sword and shield in his hands. “You faced an archdemon after all, how much different could this be?”

The clatter of armor and weapons as the group hurried away served as his cue. Raising his sword Alistair charged toward the gigantic creature, prepared to do battle one final time.

“Alistair!”

Sure it was the Inquisitor who called to him, he chose to ignore her, steps from the creature’s maw. He slashed from the right only to stumble forward into nothing. Gone were jagged obsidian rocks, and the pitted slope, the stone dais they had fought upon not moments before had vanished.

He stood in a dimly lit area, thick with green mist and nothing else. High above, the Breach churned and roiled, a storm of green swirling clouds. Alistair gripped his sword tight. “What in the Maker’s name just happened?” Alistair pivoted on his heel, surprised at the emptiness. "Um, hello? Hel-looooo?" He sung out his confusion and uncertainty, hoping that none would answer. _Not entirely, a friendly voice would be a comfort right about now._

Sheathing his sword, Alistair stowed his shield on his back. “Well, I can say one thing with absolute certainty; there is no one here to point out I’m talking to myself and I don’t look at all foolish doing so.”

Alistair stared up at the Breach trying to gauge his location. “Did everything have to disappear? I don't suppose there's some sort of Fade guidepost or way to ask directions."

He’d been in the Fade before.   _I was dreaming then; this is not quite the same._ Considering his options, Alistair put his back to the Breach and walked away from it. The way out was shut to him, but there had to be others.  “I just need to find another rift.”

The hope of retracing their steps proved fruitless; Alistair found nothing more substantial the further he walked. “I’m in the Fade and it appears I am very lost. Perhaps I should go back, in case the others find a way through?”

And then it struck him. A sudden swell in his chest stole his breath. _I’m in the Fade. Elissa. She’s got to be here._ His pace quickened, not knowing the direction or finding any terrain to mark his path. “How big can it be? There has to be a way.” _There must be a way._

Ten years had passed since that day in Denerim, although it felt like so many more without her. He should have been the one to die, not her. It was that thought that forced his hand to continue on with the Wardens, even though wearing the armor reminded him of her.

Why couldn’t he find Lis? He’d found his father and even Goldanna’s likeness. So why would he be denied now?

Thoughts roamed to rolling hills of green and gold, a promise they’d made to one another to visit her home when it was all over.  When it had ended, he walked away, and she—he angrily wiped a tear from his cheek, refusing to succumb again to her loss.  “She’s here.  I’ll find her and then? We’ll be together this time. Forever.”

Without a gauge of time or location, fatigue and hunger slowed his trek across a nonexistent landscape. His pouch had at least a dozen potions and an abundance of provisions, but as for a bed he’d found nothing.  “I didn’t plan to be here.”

Lost in a formless landscape and vacant world, with a growing fatigue slowing every step, Alistair did the only thing he could. “My back isn’t going to be too pleased, but seeing as I’m alone, I might as well try to rest.”  Dreamless sleep offered little reprieve and Alistair woke to the radiated heat of a bonfire.

At first, he thought he dreamed. His eyes opened to a familiar camp site.  Even the dirt carried a familiar scent; earthy with the slight odor of animal spoor, it was a perfect recreation of the Fereldan farmlands. Until that moment, the Fade carried no odors. The bonfire burned full, but the subtle sound of the roaring flames seemed off.

“It was always far louder in my memories, and the snap and cracks of the wood are missing as well.”

Rising to his feet, he took in the camp. Six tents. Six drab brown canvas tents created a perimeter in a dusty clearing. There was a small path to the left, and off in the distance he could make out the glow of another campfire. “This is. . .this is,” his thoughts strayed to the past, “but that was ten years ago!” He turned trying to take in every detail he could, but his disbelief prevented any comprehension. He knew every inch of this camp, despite the changing locations, once erected, it had been home.

He pointed toward two tents, set within feet of one another and smiled. “This was after,” he said. “We still put both up, but rarely slept apart. Oh Lis, I wish you were here to help me figure this out. Far cleverer than I could ever hope to be.”

Another voice cut into Alistair’s remembrances, startling him. “Perhaps not, Warden.”

“Who said that?” He drew his sword and readied. “Show yourself!”

Another emerged from the shadows beyond the camp’s edge.  A bald elf dressed in simple clothes raised his hand in greeting. “Do you remember me? I am Solas.”

“Remember you!?” Alistair shook his head stowing his sword. “Of course I remember,” Alistair corrected the edge that crept into his tone. _They sent a mage to pull you out, don’t be rude._ “You only just left me a short while ago. Where’s the rift?”

Solas touched his chest, giving Alistair a slight bow. “Warden Alistair, I am sorry.”  Something changed in his expression, a slight downturn of his lips, brow creased, and eyes shifted to the ground for a moment.  “There is no rift, you remain in the Fade and I am but a visitor.”

“Well then, get me out,” Alistair said, noting the edge had returned to his voice. _I don’t have time for games; I must return to the Wardens._

“If it were possible, rest assured I would not hesitate.”

“What? Look, with respect, this is simple,” he began and closed his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose. “Have the Inquisitor wave her fingers and green lightning thing a hole right here and—ooh magic—make me a bloody exit.” He didn’t appreciate the amusement on Solas’ face. _I’m not trying to be funny; I want to get out of here._

Standing with his hands behind his back, Solas nodded. “Warden, the Fade is not so simple. Time passes without reason; it is all times and none. What you see is now, yesterday and tomorrow without form. What feels like moments to you has been,” he paused, and once again looked on Alistair with sympathy, “months since the battle at the fortress.” 

“Months?” Alistair laughed. “Months, he says.” Wagging his finger, the joviality was a lie, his heart thumped, and a sourness rose from his stomach.  “Now I know you’re messing with me.” He opened his pack, rummaging through it. “I know this because I had enough in here to last a small army,” he stopped. _Where did all that dried meat go? I’d accepted several pouches along the way, shoving them into my bag without thinking and now it’s all gone?_  “Oh. So, it’s true. Then is there nothing The Inquisitor can do? Am I,” he hesitated, not wanting to speak the truth aloud, “am I stuck here?”

Solas offered consolation. “I, among others, search for any possibility, no matter how remote.”  Only then did he stop to take in the camp site. “Remarkable. Shall I assume this was a place of comfort some time in your past? Did you speak of it in detail to the Inquisitor?” The fascination and wide-eyed wonder suggested his camp site might be more than it appeared. 

“You know, I think I did,” Alistair said, taking cautious steps toward the bonfire. He sat on a large rock, shifting the weight of his weapon and armor. “The Inquisitor had asked about my journey; I may have talked a bit about how much I enjoyed this part of our time together all those years ago.” He sighed. “So much happened here.” Alistair glanced at the two tents to his left, thinking again on Elissa.

“You and the Hero of Ferelden.”

Alistair hummed in response. “Elissa Cousland. My Lis.” He stared at the fire. “I wondered if I might find her somewhere, but if it’s been as long as you say?” Not wanting to finish the thought, Alistair changed the subject. “What of the Inquisitor, can she help?”

“It is the Inquisitor I wish to speak of, she lingers in the Fade as well. I suspect her connection with you, powered by the mark, is responsible for your survival. The anchor is an unwilling means of protection, but it cannot sustain you both much longer.”

 _This is my fate then._ “But how am I here, seeing these things? Why is it I still live? How can I feel the heat from the fire, and rest when I’m tired?”

  
“Her guilt over your sacrifice, over her choice has doomed you both to linger without resolution. All this is powered by the anchor and build from her mind. If she comes to believe this is her reality, I fear she will never leave and in doing so, condemn you as well. Without letting go, you will waste here, until you cannot remember who you are or find your place here in the Fade.”

“Well that does not sound like the eternity I’d hoped for, nor is it what the Chantry sisters promised. How can I help?”

l-l-l

Alistair ended his story, and silence fell in the small cabin until he spoke once more. “I seemed to have killed this little tea party. Would you care for another cup or,” he paused, his brows knit together. “I’m afraid I’ve little else to offer. Silly of me really. Not a tea party at all, more of an unparty, if I were to think too long on it.” He stood, pointing toward the hearth. “I’ll be. . .over there, until I can stop blathering on.”

Alix followed. “So you were left by this Inquisitor? Who would do such a thing?”

He reached for her hand, and held it, eyes filled with warmth. “My dear, it was you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are lines paraphrased from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, as well as the 2010 Film Alice in Wonderland and the 2016 film, Alice Through the Looking Glass.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Left with no options, Cullen follows Solas' advice and makes a final effort to reach Alecia. In the Fade, Alix sees her world unraveling, turning to Alistair for help. What will happen when the safety of Haven Gardens slowly succumbs to shadow?

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

The late hour had driven all from her room except for Cullen and Solas. He refused rest. “If this is the end and she is unable to wake, then I will remain with her until we are certain.”

Solas stood on the opposite side next to her bed. His usual blank expression soured. “If the warden cannot convince her, then I fear the worst.” Cullen read the affection tinged with sorrow. “I am sorry, my friend.”  Unsure to whom the apology had been directed, Cullen thanked Solas for all his work.

“You’ve done far more than others could understand and for that I am grateful.”

A simple nod served as a reply at first. “Time slips away from us all,” Solas said. “If there are words to be spoken, say them now. I will return and hope Alecia has heard the warden’s tale and remembered. For now, talk with her.”

“What should I say?”

Crossing the room, Solas stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “Whatever you feel you must; be it tales of the past or hopes for the future. Let Alecia hear you Commander; spare no thought nor sentiment.  Now is the time.” Descending the short staircase, Solas spoke once more.  “Guilt is a heavy burden; I suspect that you above all others, may have a chance to break through.”

“Forgive me,” Cullen paused, “I don’t understand.”

“Commander, to learn from one’s past and alter views or beliefs long held to be the only path is difficult. When someone emerges from such a journey, they will not give in without a fight. This is such a battle.” Without saying any more, Solas departed, closing the door behind him.

He slid his hand beneath hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. “Alecia, do you remember the first time we spoke?” He sighed, rubbing his thumb against her fingers. “Honestly, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, but we’d only just met. A little boy with a crush—that’s what I told myself, but it’s been more than that.” Cullen took a deep breath and told Alecia everything in his thoughts.

l-l-l 

Inside the cabin, Alix couldn’t stop crying. She paced a few steps in each direction, acutely aware of Alistair’s presence and attempts to soothe. His words did little to console her, so certain she could never be the villain in Alistair’s story. Convincing her to sit, he tried to help her understand.  

“Alecia, the decision to stay. It had to be done, _you_ had to return. Marion was far better suited to aid you in your endeavors. What could I offer? A memory of a hero long gone. An outcast of an order who had lost their way. It was my sacrifice to make.”

She barely listened, the flow of tears so strong, her vision blurred for a moment; a cloth touched her hand, and through it all Alistair stood by her.

 “I must be going mad,” she muttered while wiping the tears away, “and this is some strange dream.”

“Please Alecia, you mustn’t upset yourself. It is quite true; you would have to be half-mad to dream me up.” He lifted her chin and smiled.

“But a dream is not reality.”

Alistair shrugged. “Who’s to say which is which? I rather like this; no matter what it may be. It beats living in caves and being hunted.” His smile faded. “In the gardens of memory, in the palace of dreams, that is where you and I will always meet—no matter what happens.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“If you’ll believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Do we have a bargain?”

She shook her head, not because Alix rejected Alistair’s question, but a voice not her own spoke in soft words and endearments in her head, obscuring all else.  

_How could you ever look at me knowing who and what I was? You listened to my confessions without judgement.  I was certain once you knew all I had done, you would turn from me. I could not justify misguided actions hiding behind the order and a title I wore unworthily._

“It’s not real!” Alix covered her ears, clamped her hands against them, as if the act of shutting off all sound could put an end to the words.

_Alistair was far more the hero than I could ever hope to be. He insisted I was merely foolish and promised to stand by you, wherever you traveled._

At the mention of Alistair’s name, her eyes snapped open.  “The voice, he. . .he knows you.”

Alistair reached out, but Alix shrunk away, fear urging her from the safety of the cabin. “Which voice? Alecia, who is he?”

_What did I have to offer? No name to speak of and no claim to anything other than the books in my tower. And yet, even after I held nothing back, you chose to remain—with me. Every time you spoke my name, I knew I would follow you as long as you would have me._

She gulped for air, fear of revelations, of names, of truths crashing over her like waves until she was certain anything more would carry her away.    

_It wasn’t your fault. The young girl in Crestwood? The decision was hers alone and still you blamed yourself. And the Warden? Alistair lived a life of sacrifice, you did not send him hence, he stayed behind willingly, and even Hawke asserted the truth of what happened._

The voice and Alistair spoke as one.

_“You must forgive yourself, Alecia and be strong.”_

Alix forced the heels of her hands against her temple. “My name is Alix. Alix,” she repeated. 

Alistair’s calm voice gently nudged her. Soft and kind, he spoke slowly asking her to listen. “Your name is Alecia.  Say it. Please.”

She refused, shaking her head even faster, and stumbling into the cabin door. “Mother always said certainty and boldness in all things, but remember who you are. Not a mage, not a lady, but a Trevelyan.” Her tears finally ceasing, she met Alistair’s concern. “Why do I know this? My mother, she . . .said. . .tell me. Who am I?”

He stood only steps from her, offering his hand. “You are Alecia Trevelyan, Inquisitor, and my friend.”

Her knees buckled; Alix felt strong arms hold her from falling to the floor.

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:41

Cullen’s sigh hung heavy in the room.  “I don’t think this is working. I feel foolish.”  He glanced up to see Cassandra and Dorian staring at him.  Clearing her throat, Cassandra wiped her cheeks quickly.

“It was. . .moving.  The Inquisitor is indeed blessed to have you at her side, Commander.”

“Little good it has done thus far. There is no change.”

l-l-l

A water droplet ran along her forehead, bringing Alix to awareness. The dull ache at the base of her neck served as a reminder of her fall. _I must have fainted_ , she thought, _everything after? Nothing more than a dream._  She sighed. “It seemed so real.”

Alix recalled the scent of the tea; floral and sweet, and remembered the burn as she forced herself to drink the steaming liquid. The numbness on her tongue had disappeared; further adding to the possibility of false memories. “If this is my dream, I’ll decide where it goes from here.”

Nearby someone ran a faucet; the rush of water obscuring a hushed conversation. The conversation ended and she heard approaching footsteps. She tried to sit up, but was met with a gentle hand.

“There you are,” Colin met her uncertainty with a half-smile. “You gave me quite the scare, Alix. I thought, I’d. . .we’d lost you.”

“Where?” Her head was still fuzzy, had she imagined the cabin and Alistair? _It was possible_ , she considered.

“You’re in the guard center, Cody happened to see you collapse near the locked wing and found me,” he explained.  “You’ve been asleep for near to an hour.”

“An hour?”

Colin’s hold of her shoulder meant to reassure as he spoke softly. “You're working too hard at the expense of what?” His light touch and the cool cloth soothed her for a moment, hoping the voices and visions had ended. “Stay here and rest. I’ll look after you as long as needed.”

She stiffened as the voice she was so sure had been a dream spoke again. Hollow and distant, she tried to ignore it, but the familiarity begged for her full attention. She strained to hear, but soon the voice sharpened. Hesitant and quiet, she heard him clearly. _Alecia, when you fell into the fade at Adamant. I thought. . ._ His voice cracked at the end, an undeniable swell of emotion _.  I looked away from the Rift but for a moment, and then suddenly you were there again. I will never express how grateful I remain to Warden Alistair for seeing you safely back to me. Please Alecia. Open your eyes._

A flash of memory revealed a stone tower, a large desk between them.

_“Come to distract me, have you?” He sends the runner from the room with an apology. “Give me a moment and I’m yours.”_

_Alix saunters closer. “Am I required to make an appointment to see you now?”_

_The smile creeps to his face, despite his attempt to hide it. “That depends on what you require, Alecia.”_

_“Just you, Cullen.”_

Alix scrambled to feet, her widened eyes searching the room for an explanation to her obvious madness. The man in front of her is the very same in her dream.  His hair is longer, but the warmth and affection in his eyes has not altered, and the name falls from her lips as though it belongs on every breath. She whispered it. “Cullen.”

The room darkened and shrunk around her; she cannot tell if it is her size that changed or the room diminished, but Alix scurried from the room despite Colin’s cries for her to stop.

 “Alix,” Colin called after her, “you mustn’t give in! Don’t go!”

Silas warned of the dark places; the shadows she should not cross without him.  Tears fell against her face in the hall as the light dimmed around her; Alix was sure the darkness was hunting her, closing in on her steps.

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:41

“Find him!” Cullen’s desperation shattered through his controlled façade, sending Cassandra from the room in search of Solas. “Her hands have grown cold and . . .and,” quietly Cullen begged for mercy. “Alecia, you mustn’t give in. Fight. Come back. Come back to me.”

A look passed between Cullen and Dorian, and without words, Dorian primed his magic. “I should like to think I can make this all just disappear. I am far too realistic at this moment to promise or boast beyond the truth. I will do all I can.”

“There was no warning,” Cullen spoke, dazed and concerned. “A slight shudder and then it was as if all the warmth of life drained in a moment, but she breathes still.”

“If she breathes, then Alecia is still with us,” Dorian said.

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Something had changed. The halls had grown colder and darker with every step Alix took, she shivered in response. Snow whipped and whirled indoors, Alix certain windows must have broken. Reaching the game room, her eyes could barely focus on the three figures seated at one of the tables.  “Hurry you three! We have to go!”

Despite her fear, she ventured deeper into the darkened room toward the table. Her heart raced seeing none of players moving. “Am I too late?” She reached out to touch one only to recoil. It wasn’t a person at all, but a tower built of playing cards. “You’re nothing but cards!” The other two silhouettes tumbled into piles at her feet.

The tables and chairs that had lined the walls slowly faded into shadow, as jagged piles of rocks pushed forward into view. A fine, green mist encroached from the window line. “What’s going on here?”

A heavy object fell to the floor and rolled in her direction. It was an orb, bright and glowing an iridescent and unnatural green. There was something foreboding in its presence, but it called to her, and she reached without thinking.  

Disembodied voices gasped and called for action as Alix felt a searing heat engulf her hand and arm. Gripping her injured hand, Alix ran from the room. A woman’s voice followed her into the hall, but if it came from memory or the game room, Alix couldn’t be sure.

“Run while you can! Warn them!”

 _Warn them._ Alix had heard the forewarning before. _The question is, do I save myself or save those who have trusted in me?_ She couldn’t leave without trying to help the others. Fear urged her to run, hide or escape before she too succumbed to the danger facing them. The icy winds rivaled even the strongest storm and defied all reason as the frigid gusts grew stronger inside the halls. “Just a little further,” she said, even knowing her assertions carried little strength.

The stark corridors led to empty rooms, not one of them suggested any occupant for some time. Mattresses rested against the walls and their bedframes lay in neatly disassembled pieces.

“All those people. What happened to them? Could they really be—all gone?”

Finding no sign of any guests, nor the source of the bitter winds, Alix battled against fear and cold continuing onward. Her teeth chattered and body shivered from the freezing storm. Her mother had once scolded her for the very same chattering noises as a young girl; insisting Alix find a way to hush.

She hummed a tune that sat at the back of her thoughts, recalling a man’s dulcet voice intoning the words, joined by many others. Alix couldn’t remember the last time she’d attended services, but the melody took her mind from the oddity of being and calmed her as she trudged through the darkening halls. Soon the words took form and spilled out as she neared the rear corridor. _Steel your heart, the dawn will come._

Alix nearly turned to the left toward Silas’ office when Alistair’s story returned to her. “He says I left him once,” she muttered. Eyes unfocused as she gazed toward the right corridor; the hint of light at the far end echoing the hymn she had just recalled. “It must be the torches in the Griffin wing.” She remembered the firelight reflecting off stone.

A sharp pain stabbed through her left hand, and the same green ethereal light flared. “I need help,” she said, breathing through the pain. _Whom shall I trust?_   She hesitated, shaking the pain out of her hand. “If his story is even half true, who better to help me?”  It was true Silas claimed he could guide her, but Alistair had shown her kindness and friendship, regardless of his outlandish story and insistence of abandonment at her hands. “I can’t leave him.”

 _No_ , she thought _, I won’t leave him. There is a difference._ Her convictions gave Alix the fortitude to push on, her eyes fixed on the warm glow at the end of the hall. The doors to the Griffin wing had changed, the sterile grey metal had been somehow replaced with a tall sweeping archway and wooden doors.

“If I simply accept that I have, indeed, gone mad, would it cure the pit of strangeness sitting in my stomach? She ventured under the arch and into the familiar corridor of slick stone and torches, but felt a shift around her. The frigid storm did not cross the barrier with her, the air growing more arid and warmer.

Sweat dotted her brow as she neared the entry to Alistair’s wood, when a sudden burst of daylight forced her hand to cover her eyes. The clang of metal on metal and the thudding impact of what could be a fight, forced Alix to look closer despite the blinding sunlight.

Alistair’s wood had been replaced with sand dunes and dust storms, the sun bearing down on him. The glistening stream and misty wood had disappeared, but it was Alistair fending off creatures with a sword and shield that started her run in his direction.

“Perfect,” he grunted, slashing at two hooded creatures gliding along the sand, “timing!”

“What?” Alix realized her mistake, having neither the skill nor the means to help him. “We need to run!”

He slammed the shield in his left hand against the creature on his left, and it fell backward as if stunned. “Well? Don’t stand there like you've never seen a demon before. A little help would be nice!”

“A what? What can I do? We’ve got to go and go now!”

For a moment his brow furrowed glancing at her. “Mind your fingers, my dear!” A wide sweeping slash dropped one of the creatures and it dissolved into green mist. “You are a mage. Do. . . I don't know. . . mage. . .things!”

“I’m a what?”

He scoffed and squared off against the other creature, sharp talons scraping his shield. “You said so yourself, remember? Your mother’s words: not a mage, not a lady, but a Trevelyan!” He shouted at the creature and stabbed at it with his sword missing it by inches. “Damn! Come on Alecia, blast this thing already!”

 _Blast it?_ She didn’t understand. The fear she’d managed to hold in check resurfaced. “I don’t think I can!”

The sudden crackle and boom of a thunderclap pulled Alix’s attention behind her. A shimmering cloud of green light and white miasma grew wider and two more of the hooded beings floated toward her. “Alistair! There are more of those. . .those things heading this way!” The dryness in her throat and mouth made swallowing difficult; she yelled for him despite the roughness. “Tell me what to do!”

He pummeled the creature in front of him, alternating between his slashing sword blows and bashing the shield. “Alecia, please try to remember. Use fire, ice or even that bloody purple lightning. You can do this!”

Covered in faded scraps of cloth, its arms were gnarled and desiccated, and long fingers ended in sharp points. The face partially obscured by the wrappings, Alix withdrew closer to Alistair. Whatever it was, terrified her. Slow and careful steps grew more difficult as the sand engulfed her feet and then her ankles.

She couldn’t run; sinking deeper into the sand restricted any movement. The two newcomers appeared to hover and float toward Alistair, but without a sound they both converged on Alix. She screamed as the first one neared, its shrouded arm raised to strike. Alix closed her eyes and cringed waiting for the blow. Nothing happened. She heard a grunt and a hiss before she was pushed to the ground.

Jarred from the impact, her eyes closed, and it took a moment to recover. It was only then she realized Alistair had put his body between her and the creature, taking the full force of its attack. He’d beaten the first; its body dissolving leaving only one more. “Alecia, you must flee. Find the—”

Alistair dropped to his knee and grunted, the creature swiping furiously at him. His shield fell to the sand with a thud.

“Alistair!” With a deep breath, she clambered to her feet. As if acting on their own, her arms shot forward and engulfed the demon in a cage of purple sparks. The mark on her hand glowed even brighter.

“Close it,” he coughed out directions. “Your hand. . .to the rift.”

 _Rift?_ At first, she didn’t understand, but her memory spoke of many such objects and the image of her raised hand. She lifted her left hand and hesitated, but something happened as she did so. The vibration in her hand spread to her wrist. Then to her arm, but it was more than that. She saw herself surrounded by others, urging her on. The miasmatic cloud shrunk as the vibrations grew in intensity.

Flashes of a stone keep upon a snow covered mountain filled her thoughts, Alix hurrying up stairs to a large wooden door on the battlements, throwing the door open and smiling at the person within.

A light touch pulled her from her vision to find Alistair standing next to her. He laughed. “Nothing like a near death experience to make you not like death very much!”  He retrieved his shield and stowed it. “Nicely done, my friend. Good to have you at my back.” Alistair rambled on. “I should confess I’ve used that line a few times before, but you weren’t there so the cleverness is worth repeating.”

She sighed. “If only it really was you, and not a dream.”

“Oh, it’s me all right, but the question is, who are you?”

Exhaling, she crossed her arms. “Please don’t start. My head is so filled with nonsense and images that make little sense. I really want to wake up.”

The sun’s light winked out as if covered with a shroud of darkness and thunder boomed in the distance. “Blast. I think you just did. Alix, think for a moment, where are we?”

Her brows knit together. “Alix? How did you. . .my brothers called me Alix,” she explained. “As for where we are; I remember corridors of stark grey and many rooms, tea parties and red dragons.” She stared at him, eyes widening. “Alistair, if you’re really here, am I in the Fade again?”

“In a way. You were injured in the Frostbacks.”

She nodded absently. “I fell, but I was fine. Wasn’t I?”

“This world is your dream, or something like that. We really need to find Solas, he’ll guide you out.”

“Not without you,” she said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alecia must choose her path before the Fade claims her, but she refuses to leave Alistair behind.

Alecia led the way, still reeling from the idea she was the dreamer. Even more disturbing, Alistair was not a part of the dream, but very real and still trapped within the Fade. He explained all he knew, and even though it seemed to make sense, Alecia couldn’t help her repeated glances and renewed guilt. “You must hate me.”

“Now hang on one bloody moment!” He pulled on her arm, but where Alecia expected to see anger and resentment, his expression softened. He smiled for a moment and dipped his head to meet her eyes. “No more talk of blame or anger. We’ve already discussed this, I could have refused and insisted Hawke stay, then again, she might have challenged me to a duel for the fun of it to see who would have the honor of remaining behind.”

 _He’s teasing me, trying to put me at ease._ “You must be joking. You’re here because I made a decision. It’s my fucking fault!”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes, yes, fine. Your fault. Happy? There. Now, let’s find your Fade hopping friend and get you home-or wake you up or whatever blasted thing has to be done.”

More than a hint of annoyance crept into her voice. “Alistair,” she said frowning with brow creased.

He covered his ears and talked in a loud voice before walking on without her. “Terribly sorry, I can’t hear you; I covered my ears. Must press on.”

Alecia had little choice, she followed him down a dimly lit corridor. The walls appeared to shudder as they passed, flat and grey smooth surfaces changed to slick stone and the spherical globes of light affixed shimmered as they too changed appearance. Torches hung in iron rings; all similar to those she’d seen in countless keeps.

“Maker take me, what is happening?”  She turned in a slow pirouette, taking in the changing vision. Peering down the corridor from where they had come, she gasped. It was disappearing. Everything they passed had turned to shadow, engulfed in darkness.

She almost yelped when a strong grip pulled her onward. Alistair’s concern reflected in his eyes. “Alix is gone my friend, and with it, _her_ world is disappearing. We cannot delay.”

The truth in his words reflected all around her. Haven Gardens still lingered, despite the ever changing scenery. Walls shimmered and rippled; if she stared too long, the movements reminded Alecia of a stone breaking the surface of water. Even the people and experiences seeped from her memory as water escaping a cracked pitcher. “What’s happening?” Her question fell without fear; she’d seen stranger things in their travels; this was no different. _Isn’t it?_ She argued silently. _Do I still dream? It would seem so, for I have not left this place._

Her attention shifted to Alistair, and he glanced back with a reassuring smile. She returned the gesture, despite the determination to see him safe. _I won’t leave until I know for certain how to bring him back with me. I have a chance to right this wrong._

Ahead of them, the dark corridor repelled any desire to move forward. She shivered, and the overwhelming foreboding hung like a heavy cloak on her shoulders.

“I hate the dark; did you know that?” Alistair’s change in confidence did little for Alecia; she concurred.

“ _The dark spaces aren’t for you_. I remember that warning. We shouldn’t go that way,” she whispered. “Something’s waiting for us.”

Alistair sighed as he spoke. “Well, we can’t stay here,” Alistair offered. “That is, you can’t. This creation of yours is fading away into nothing.  I’m used to nothing. I spent enough time in complete nothing. Once all this disappears,” he gestured around him, “it’ll be me and a whole lot of nothing again.”  He held out his hand. “I promise to see you safe.”

Alecia grasped his hand, tightening her fingers in a silent promise. _And I you, friend._

 

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Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

 

Cullen nearly shouted feeling Alecia’s fingers tighten around his hand. Relief overflowed in an exclamation of faith without care for propriety. “Thank the Maker!”

Awkwardly shifting to the bed, he refused to let her hand fall free of his. Dorian grumbled waking slowly from his rest on the couch. “Could you keep it down; some of us still require rest.”

“Alecia. . .she,” he stumbled over his words. “She gripped my hand; it’s a firm grip, strong and steady. This must be the end of her ordeal.”

“A reflex perhaps?” A single raised brow and Dorian’s disbelief scratched at Cullen’s happiness.

“How can you see anything from across the room?”

His expression softened, offering Cullen a gentle smile. “We’ve been here before, and it’s been a fleeting thing. I wish to avoid another disappointment; I mean no harm.”

He sighed conceding the truth. “Then look now, and you will see,” Cullen said with a nod in her direction. “Her grip is firm and has not wavered; this is nothing like the previous. I tell you, she wakes—or soon will.”

A heavy sigh and a promise to bring Solas took Dorian from the room; his heavy footsteps on the stairs quieted a moment later.  Cullen’s attention returned to Alecia, a smile overtaking his face. “A little further Alecia, you’re almost home.”

 

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_“You’re almost home.”_

Alecia coughed, hearing Cullen’s voice echo from far away. “Almost home,” she repeated, staring into the velvet blackness of the corridor in front of them, even the thought of stepping further into the unknown terrified her. She wanted to run, to find Alistair’s woodland cabin and hide away from what lay in wait. _It isn’t real_ , she thought. _The cabin isn’t real, this place, the people and the memories are all false, but I must be asleep somewhere. Skyhold? Another camp?_ “What if it is an illusion like everything else?” She muttered her concerns as they changed the path.

Her fears subsided with the distance gained, but repeated glances over her shoulder caught Alistair’s attention. “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”

She started to laugh; embarrassment dipping her head down, before she met his question. “Probably not.”

Alistair scanned the empty halls and shrugged. “We’re no closer to finding the way out.”

She turned and pointed back at the cross point in the halls. “That’s not true, we know where to go. We have to go through it.”

“Through what?”

“The dark spaces.”

Cautious steps brought him closer and Alistair dropped his voice to a whisper. “I though the dark spaces were bad?” Alecia left him standing there, Alistair calling after her.  “You said we shouldn’t go as in not meant for us to traverse safely, so let’s find another way.”

A fleeting memory floated among so many others.

 _“A word of caution Alix. Do not attempt to traverse the eluvian’s gateway without me.”_ Alecia finished the recitation, her excitement met by Alistair’s confusion.

“An eluvian? Here?” He turned away and then faced her again. “Is it true? If even one of those blasted magic mirrors is here, then I could. . I could-”

She rested her hand on his shoulder. “You’d be free.”

Alistair bit his lip, the knot between his brows growing tighter. “Could it be that simple?” Scratching his chin Alistair seemed to carry on a silent conversation. His head bobbled back and forth and he nodded a few times. His face ran through a myriad of expressions and changes until a frown settled in place of all others. “What about you?”

 _I don’t know_ , she answered silently, not wanting to ignite his loyalty to her. _He’d refuse_ , she concluded, and in that thought she made a pact. _I will see him safe, no matter the cost._

 

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Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

“Fascinating? He offered no answers, no suggestions? I find it hard to accept Solas stood here for nearly half an hour and said nothing more.” Cassandra’s incredulity tightened into a denial of what they had witnessed. She crossed her arms and scoffed.   

Cullen shared her sentiments. “I will admit his silence a little more than unnerving, but he left without another word. Perhaps he seeks to find Alecia in the Fade and finally lead her out?”

Her disgruntled hum underscored her disappointment. “I should hope so.”

 

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“Yes, I can confirm the light has no effect,” said Alistair. “Even the fireball you tossed disappeared.” He faced her. “Are you sure about this?”

“No, I’m not sure of anything.” She hurried to meet him at the precipice separating the darkness and where he stood. “You see it’s getting worse here; all color has fled and the walls are no longer solid. If we are going to go, now is the time.”

He glanced at her and smiled. “I wish you could have met Elissa; you two are very much alike.”

“I doubt that very much. I am nothing like her, certainly I am no hero.”

Alistair clasped her hand. “You, my friend, are indeed a hero. No matter what happens, never forget the good you have done.” He took a deep breath and met her worry. “Are you ready?” She nodded. “We step into whatever this is on three,” he said, counting down, “one. . .two.” The air shimmered and warmed in front of them, stopping his countdown. “Did you feel that?”

“Yes,” came her whispered reply, just before the ground shook and an ear-splitting roar broke the two apart to cover their ears. “What is that!?” She yelled again nearly breeching the darkened veil, but Alistair pulled Alecia away and the two retreated as fast as they could manage.

Alecia’s hand reached for her neck, the pounding rhythm and increasing pain a reminder of some previous injury she couldn’t recall. Her breath came in quick bursts, a mix of fear and exertion. She tried to think through the problem but found only the words to a children’s tale.

 

_“Beware the Great dragon’s wrath, my son._

_It fears no man, nor spares his life_

_Beware the sharpened claws, and daggered teeth._

_Take your spiritsword in hand;_

_For nothing less shall fell this foe”_

_  
_Alecia shook her head. “That’s all I remember, but a dragon here? Impossible!” She winced, closing her eyes and tapping her fingers against her temple. “Stop it, stop it stop it!”

  
“Alecia?”

She covered her ears. “I liked it better when I was Alix—impossible things for breakfast, afternoon tea parties and evening card games. In the kingdom of nonsense the dreamer is king. . .or queen? I can’t remember.” Hands dropping to her sides in defeat, she stared at Alistair.

“Maybe that’s the key. Leave Alix to her stories and dreams,” he explained. “We need Alecia to help make sense of everything.”

He was right, of course. “It would be nice if just one thing could make sense for a change.” 

Another roar rattled her teeth and cut through them both. Alistair shouted out his aggravation. “That’s enough of that!”

Running his fingers through his hair, his hands paused gripping his neck. “I’m starting to dislike this dream of yours quite a lot. Maybe you should try not dreaming of big scary dragons with sharp teeth and a dislike of humans, hmmm? I rather like the tea party idea or even the card game at this point. I’m a bit partial to all my limbs being right where they are.” 

Alecia chewed on her thumbnail, thinking through their predicament. “That has to be the way, it has to be. Doesn’t it?”

“What of the dragon? If it even is a dragon.”

 _If I have to distract whatever it is, Alistair can still reach the eluvian._ “We run,” she said with a nod of conviction. He laughed. Alecia heard the mix of disbelief and sarcasm.

“We run?” A single brow arched. “You wouldn’t be planning to get in the way of this dragon now would you?”

She hoped her face remained devoid of reaction as she lied. “No, we’re both getting out of here.”

  

l-l-l

 

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

  
Morning had come to the rookery, bringing an unwelcome guest. Birds shifted on their perches, discontented squawks and carefully pointed hisses expressed their displeasure. Sunlight peeked through wherever it could, but even the bright light of day did little to raise the spirits of those gathered.

Mounting the steps with noisy aggravation, the morning guest huffed with her ascent. A head of loosely piled black hair rose into view first, followed by piercing golden eyes.  “You called?”

Leliana’s hood obscured her face; she needed a moment to hide the grin at Morrigan’s annoyance. “Never have two words carried such a mix of aggravation and thinly veiled disdain,” she muttered under her breath.

Reaching the top stair, the raven nearest Morrigan hissed at her, and for a moment Leliana wondered if the sentiment might be returned. In the interest of keeping the conversation short, Leliana dug free her most diplomatic smile and voice. “You must excuse my charges, they don’t take kindly to early callers.”

Gaze fixed, Morrigan raked her teeth against her bottom lip before responding in a clipped manner. “Neither do I. You summoned me, and I am here. What do you need?”

Leliana’s posture straightened. “A favor for an old friend.”

“If I agree, then my debt is paid. Are we in agreement?”

The debt in question was not Leliana’s to forgive; she had merely witnessed the oath to Elissa and sought to collect. She slid a folded parchment across the table until Morrigan snatched it free, her eyes still fixed on Leliana.

Opening the paper, Morrigan’s attention flicked to the message several times before her eyes narrowed. “You cannot expect me to—”

Leliana held up her hand. “Can it be done? A simple yes or no is all I require. Solas waits. He believes you are more than capable of carrying out the request.”

Lips pressed into a thin line. “For the Inquisitor and for my friend I will complete the task, but we shall never speak of this again.”

 

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 _There is no dragon, there is no dragon._ She repeated the words in her head, hoping to lessen the fear sitting on her chest.  She glanced toward Alistair, his eyes closed and lips moving silently. “A prayer?”

He opened one eye and shrugged. “Not exactly,” he said. “Essentially, I’ve promised to be a good boy if we get out of this and I even added that I would be nice to Morrigan no matter how vile and caustic she was to me.”

Nearly to the edge of darkness once more, Alecia questioned him. “I’ve found her to be quite pleasant and helpful. Was it not so for you?”

“She must like you then.” He drew his sword. “All right, enough about Morrigan. This time we go, no matter what occurs.”

“Agreed.”

 

l-l-l

Skyhold 9:41 Dragon

  
Morrigan grasped a corner of the maroon colored drape covering the eluvian. With a sharp tug the fabric billowed, cascading off the tall mirror; she gathered it in her arms and placed it in a heap on a nearby bench.

Her fingers glided along the gilded edge, tracing the grooved pattern on the frame. “Elissa, I will honor my oath and see him safe, but no more.” Her hand dropped away. “If only you had agreed.” The sadness visiting her face hardened to a mask of indifference and she coughed any trace of emotion away. “Now it falls to me to save the fool,” she said, stepping through to wait for Alistair’s crossing.

 

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The first thing that struck Alecia was the quiet. The dragon had roared with such ferocity before they breached the barrier, she couldn’t help the thought spoken aloud. “Am I dead?”

“Not unless I am too,” the voice, undeniably Alistair’s, drifted from the right side. “Can you see? I’m not sure where we are or where we should be going.”

She had wondered if he could see or if the absence of everything afflicted her alone. “I’m much the same, I’m afraid.” The mark on her hand flared for a moment, but even its light could not penetrate the void. She gasped as it crackled, its strength increasing.

“Alecia!” His concern evident as his volume increased. “Are you all right? Where are you?” Alistair continued to call out, his voice growing dimmer and more muffled. She heard him shout her name and refuse to leave her until all grew silent.

Gooseflesh prickled along her arms, sending a shiver up her spine. “Someone’s here,” she whispered. And then she heard it. Soft, padded footsteps approached. “Who are you!” She cared little for politeness, not with Alistair’s life at the mercy of the blasted void keeping them from leaving.

“Who are _you_?” the voice was masculine, even familiar, but the drawn out speech and slowed cadence confused her for a moment. Recollections of similar conversations and agitations stemming from incorrect responses caused her to stiffen.  Her movements slowed, as if she moved through water, and a dull roar from far behind her became more muffled until the voice repeated its question. “ _Where_ are you?

 _It’s a test_ , she thought. _And I must give the correct answer and in the proper way_. She nearly asked after Alistair, but the sudden absence of his presence and the strange viscosity to the air alluded to some sort of magic. “My name in this place was Alix. That is, until it wasn’t. She was the dreamer, but I am _Alecia_ ,” she said, answering the first question and taking a step closer to the voice. “I should like to think I rest at Skyhold, with those closest to me at my side. The dreamer kept me in the Fade, but I would ask your permission to return.”

Solas materialized through a thick curtain of nothingness. The gentle smile and warmth she remembered calmed her fears. “It is good to see you again, Inquisitor. You need no permission; we must cross the barrier together.”

“And Alistair?”

He held his hands one above the other. With a single fluid motion, a ball of light appeared in his left hand. “The Warden proved quite remarkable,” Solas said, beckoning her to follow. “To think he managed to traverse the Fade in his corporeal state and not lose sight of who he was.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“I have no intentions of leaving him behind.” Solas turned and faced her. “Morrigan’s grasp of the eluvians is impressive. I asked the spymaster to call in a favor of sorts; one that could only have come from the deepest of bonds. The Warden is crossing the Fade as we speak with her aid. If she knows as much as I suspect—he will arrive before you wake.”

She stopped. “You told me there was no way to reach him. When we camped at Adamant, you said we couldn’t save him.”

“I will explain all, but we must return. I fear your commander has stretched the entirety of the Inquisition to remain awake and keep vigil. For the sake of all, we cannot delay.” 

She caught the hint of a smile on his face and for a moment she wondered if Solas had teased her, but a path suddenly cleared before them. “How. . .are you making this happen?”

“No, my friend. Have you forgotten our discussions? I visit the Fade often. It . . .knows me.”

The glint of light caught a large object ahead of them. The closer they ventured, it sharpened and solidified into an overlarge mirror. The frame was tarnished and worn, as if it had been used so many times, it could barely hold the heavy glass within. A hazy film covered the glass, obscuring the image; its distortion only revealed that two stood before it.

“This is it, then?”

“Would you indulge one more question?”

Alecia could see no reason to deny it; her adventure, if it could be called such, was about to end. She nodded her assent.

“Your trials as Inquisitor have not ended; there are more obstacles and difficulties along the path before you. Will you return or will you remain here?” 

“This has been a most curious dream,” she said, allowing a wistfulness to carry her words. Taking a deep breath, she answered. “The lesson, if there was one, seems to center on one thing; _be what you would seem to be_. I choose to be Inquisitor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've no beta at the moment, if you see something off let me know.

**Author's Note:**

> There are lines paraphrased from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, as well as the 2010 Film Alice in Wonderland and the 2016 film, Alice Through the Looking Glass.


End file.
